Page 64 of Paramour of Sin
But what would he gain by messing with me now? Other than a boost of pride, of course.
I’d won our last battle, after all.
I added his name to the bottom of the list, then carried my glass to the sink. The idea merited investigation later.
For now, I decided to head to Guinevere’s house to inform her she’d be moving to Chicago temporarily.
Or maybe permanently.
The idea suited well.
Something to consider later, I decided.
I needed to find Ragus first, tell him my plan, then teleport to Nashville.
Chapter Eighteen
Gwen
Zane either felt I needed to gain some weight, or he thought food would fix my mood.
I toed the empty bowl on the coffee table, moving it further away from my feet as I crossed my ankles atop the living room table.
Broccoli cheddar soup.
Made from scratch.
Zane had chopped the veggies and melted the cheese and everything, and it redefined the meaning of divine. That had been my lunch, after a breakfast of French toast and eggs.
Mid-afternoon, he’d popped out of the kitchen with a charcuterie board and a charming smile. I’d rolled together salami and pepper jack cheese, dipped the concoction in homemade Dijon mustard, and wondered how the hell he’d gone grocery shopping without me knowing about it. I suspected a Portal Dweller had something to do with it because I’d overheard Remy’s voice at one point in the kitchen. However, he’d been gone when I poked my head in.
I ate the whole charcuterie spread. Even the olives.
As delicious as it was, when I finished, I was still mad at Zane.
Now, it was past dinnertime, and an array of divine scents were coming from the kitchen.Garlic, onion, tomatoes—clearly Italian.I couldn’t lie to myself and pretend I wasn’t looking forward to whatever Zane had concocted, especially if it lived up to all his previous meals earlier today.
But I also had no intention of forgiving him just for feeding me.
One day did not make up for years of his bullshit.
Okay, sure, he wasn’talwaysan ass. Just most of the time. And the way he’d shattered my heart… no amount of food would make up for that.
Hmm, although, orgasms might,I mused, recalling his expert tongue and knowing hands.No. Nope. Not happening. Stop that train of thought right now.
I removed my feet from the table and crossed my legs, wishing yet again that Gleason would come home to distract me from doing something stupid.
Like jumping Zane.
Or killing Zane.
Or kissing Zane.
Or stabbing Zane.
Ugh.
Do I want to fuck him? Yes. Will I do it? No.
