Page 30 of Veiled in Brick

“Don’t look at me,” he muttered.

Shifting my eyes to the group sitting at the kitchen table, I looked at all of them with a pointed stare. Luke shook his head. Claire, upon assessing Luke’s reaction, shrugged. Liam squinted at the vase with a morbid curiosity, and I sighed at their collective telepathic, ‘Not a clue.’

Claire called out, “It’s cute, though!”

I placed it on the floor within the apartment for Claire to do with what she will, and James shimmied by me. He turned to face me in the entryway, his crooked smile making me huff out a breath that was released along with my hesitancy regarding his presence at the break of dawn. He leaned against the door jamb.

“They’re watching us,” he whispered dramatically.

I grumbled back, “I figured that.”

“I’ll call you later?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I rolled my eyes. “Call me later.”

With a quick flash of a glance over my shoulder and what sounded like a smug chuckle, James reached a hand down to clasp the back of my neck and leaned in to place his lips on mine. The kiss was soft and slow—so enticing that I bowed into it, opening my mouth for just a brief moment to allow our tongues to touch until I remembered that we had an audience.

I pulled away from him abruptly and smacked his chest.

“You did that on purpose,” I hissed. “What are you doing, claiming property?”

He shot me a beaming grin and shrugged. “Bye, Zoey.”

I watched him walk through the hall and disappear down the stairs, and as I shut the door behind me, I found three very intent sets of eyes on me. I groaned loudly.

Claire insisted, “Come. Sit. Coffee. Now.”

I obliged, snatching the slim vase by the neck to bring it with me, and retorted, “I’m not a fucking dog, Claire.”

She rolled her eyes as she stood and moved to grab the necessities to make my cup. I placed the ceramic on the table between us all and tentatively sat next to Liam. As I looked his way, I found his gaze set on his coffee. It appeared to not have been touched, and though he reached to place his hand on the handle of the mug, he didn’t bring it to his lips. He rotated it slowly, as if he simply wanted to busy his hands, and then released it all together.

“What are you doing here so early?” I whispered.

It wasn’t uncommon to find Liam at my apartment in the morning drinking a cup of coffee, but I was usually well-awake for an hour or two before he ambled over from his abode across the hall and let himself in through the front door.

Liam cleared his throat. “It’s not,” he murmured back. “You slept in.”

Before I could respond, Claire had returned with my mug. She leaned over the table, sliding it toward me with a smile.

“So,” she started, “Jay sleeping over is new.”

I held up an index finger to signify for her to wait, took a large gulp of my drink, and set it down with purpose.

“May I clear a few things up?” I asked her sweetly.

“Oh,” she laughed, “was that not what it looked like?”

My eyes shot skyward. “Yes, we had sex last night—that is not news. This is not new. We have fucked before. I can tell you all the detail of that if you want. I can recall it with alarming clarity.” Liam had finally taken a sip from his cup, and his face contorted as if it were incredibly bitter. I continued, “The sleeping in my bed—not consensual.”

“Not consensual?” Claire asked.

Liam snorted into his coffee, and I exhaled quietly in relief that his usual candor had returned.

“Did not want him sleeping in my bed,” I stated bluntly. “My bed is my bed.”

“And you didn’t kick him out because…” Liam asked, his question fading off as he awaited my response.

“Okay,” I began, “just to make everything clear—because apparently, everyone is incredibly curious about my sex life—”

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