Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(81)

“It's not just that, Zayden,” I say quietly, and something about the soft gentle darkness around us makes me feel brave. Moonlight slants across the carpet in front of my feet, silver-blue bars of pale light that just barely kiss the toes of my tennis shoes. “It's way more than that.”

There's another long pause as Zayden exhales and sits up straight, streaking his fingers through his hair. I stare at him, but I don't much feel like looking him in the eyes, so I gaze at the black ring piercings on either side of his lip instead.

“You have a crush on me, too, huh?” he asks and it takes me a second to realize what he's talking about. I've got such a huge crush on you, Brooke. Oh. He did say that, didn't he?

I shrug my shoulders because I feel like I can't look at him right now, can't see disdain or rejection or even pity on his face.

“I like you, Brooke. A lot. More than most girls.”

“Most girls?” I echo, because when you think about that statement, it's really not very flattering at all. Zayden shifts a little and reaches over to touch my chin, turning my face toward him. His brown eyes are soft in the darkness, his half-smile tilted to one side.

“Better than any girl,” he says and a chill chases down my spine.

“Is that a line?” I ask, because I really don't want it to be. For once, I want something that's mine and mine alone. I want this. Obviously, I know I can't actually have Zayden, but … I want to be that one girl, just this one time.

“Nope. Just the truth. Plain and simple,” he says, letting go of my chin and dropping his hand to the hem of my dress, chasing his finger underneath it and up my thigh. Each touch of his fingertips sends my heart skipping and bouncing, until it's beating an irregular rhythm just for him. “I really do like you, Brooke.”

“Okay, so.” I turn toward him, putting one knee up on the bed and tucking some hair over my shoulders. “What does that mean?”

“Mean?” he asks, hooking up an eyebrow. “Like I said before … it means something, but it doesn't change anything. You know that, right?”

“I just don't … I mean, I get it, but why?” When I look up at Zayden, I think I have tears in the corners of my eyes. Or maybe I just feel like I'm about to cry. “Why couldn't, you know, this,” I gesture between us, “work? It's kind of awesome so far.”

I make myself smile, but Zayden's expression has slipped into a gentle frown.

“I live in Las Vegas,” he says, but that's not good enough for me.

“So?”

“So. You live here. You just up and moved, Brooke. And you have school, and the kids, and Jesus, you're only twenty-two. You can't put all your dollars in one slot.”

“You're saying because I haven't slept with other guys that this can't work?”

“I'm saying you have no idea what you're feeling for me because you have nothing to compare it against. That's all.”

“We could … do this long distance?” I say as Zay glances up at me and smiles. But it's not a good smile. It's kind of a sad smile, a why-are-you-so-pathetic sort of smile. It pisses me off. “What's so crazy about that? Not enough sex for you? Is that it?”

“You have enough to worry about without having me in the picture. And I have a mortgage and a job back at home. There's nothing here for me.”

I purse my lips and glance away.

“Look, I know this seems really special now, but what about in two weeks? Or three? In my experience, relationships don't exactly work out. They're more trouble than they're worth. Let's leave this at a sweet spot and say good-bye when the time comes.”

My eyes really do water then, and I stand up, moving away from Zayden as I take a deep breath. I feel like I'm in a prison of my own making. I got myself here. I invited him into my bed and into my life.

This sucks.

“We still have three nights left though,” he purrs, his voice drawing my attention back to the bed. But then I look at him sitting there, looking so pretty in the moonlight, and I just feel sad. Maybe it's not even Zayden that I care about? Maybe I'm just lonely. I don't know. I feel really f*cking lonely right now.

“You should go check on that duplex,” I say as I squeeze the baby monitor in my hand. Zay stands up and starts to move toward me, but I back up and he takes that as a hint, holding up his palms in surrender.

“Okay. Alright. Look, if you change your mind while I'm gone,” he pauses again and takes a few steps closer to me, leaning in to breathe hot words against my ear, “leave your bedroom door unlocked.”

Zayden disappears out the door and down the steps. I wait until I hear it lock behind him before I move over to my own door and lock that, too.



The next morning, I dress all the way up for class, using a YouTube tutorial on my phone to apply my makeup, and picking out the most cohesive pieces of clothing that I own. I end up in skinny jeans, black boots that remind me of a pair I saw Zayden wearing, and a hot pink tank top.

I even get up an hour early to wash and dry my hair, combing it out until there's a sleek shiny chocolate wave tumbling down to my ass.

When I'm finished cleaning my piercing, I head into the hallway to the sound of … quiet? When I clomp down the stairs, I manage to catch a brief glimpse of five children seated around the dining table. As I pause to stare, one of the twins scrambles away and Zayden chases him down.