Home > The Single Life with Zola Patterson Part 2(16)

The Single Life with Zola Patterson Part 2(16)
Author: Danielle Allen

“Is everything okay?” a woman asked.

He chuckled, putting his arm around me. “She’s okay. She’s had a little too much to drink.”

That made me laugh even harder. I held on to him to keep me upright as he navigated us around people and toward the register.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked him as I caught my breath. “Did you see that lady’s face when you threw my pen?”

“Oh, she called store security,” he chuckled.

“She definitely did. When she asked me if I was okay, I know she thought something went down and I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to tell her.”

“And I felt like me telling her I was throwing an imaginary pen wasn’t going to help the situation.”

“Can you two lovebirds move up in line?” the man behind us snapped.

Suddenly I became hyper aware of Saint’s arm around my shoulders. It was so natural. Even as we shifted forward, I remained tucked under his arm.

“It’s about time,” the man said gruffly.

Saint removed his arm from around me and turned all the way around. The man averted eye contact and stared down into his basket. Saint returned to his forward-facing position and slipped his arm around me. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I bet he won’t say anything else.”

“Oh, definitely not,” I agreed, fighting the shiver his whisper sent down my spine.

“Don’t smile at me like that,” he warned.

“Or what?”

He held my gaze and licked his lips.

Giggling, I looked away from him and locked eyes with the last person I wanted to see.

I looked away, hoping he didn’t recognize me. But with my peripheral vision, I saw him head toward the exit nearest us and not the one in the opposite direction.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

“Zola…” He dragged my name out and it sounded like nails dragging across a chalkboard.

I exhaled. “Hello, Cam,” I greeted him carefully as he walked over to us.

“Good to see you.” He shifted his gaze to Saint. “What’s up?”

Saint reached his hand out. “What’s up?”

Cameron looked at his hand for a moment before shaking it. Without a word to him, he looked at me. “So, what’s up with you? I called you and I never heard back.”

“I’ve been busy. Just like right now…” I pursed my lips. “But it’s been good seeing you.”

“I wanted to talk to you about our last conversation.”

I tried to keep my cool as I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t think there was anything else to discuss. So, have a nice night.”

His eyes flashed. “Oh, so this is a date?”

“Yes,” I reiterated. “So again, have a nice night.”

“Oh word?” He let out a short, dry laugh. “So, is this the reason you decided you didn’t want to see me anymore?”

I inhaled deeply. “Cameron. Please leave.”

We were next in line, so Saint removed his arm from around me and handed the wine to the cashier. I glanced over at him and tried to read his expression. He wouldn’t make eye contact as he finished the transaction.

That made me feel a way.

Rolling my shoulders back, I took a couple steps toward him. “What is your problem?”

“For someone who isn’t big on PDA, you seem fine with it now,” Cameron snapped.

“Everything okay?” Saint asked me as he stepped away from the register.

“I’m fine,” I answered, locking eyes with him.

He stared at me, communicating with me without words and then he slipped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to take my date and head out,” Saint told Cameron before walking us around him and toward the exit.

“You can have her,” Cam barked.

Saint smirked and replied without looking back. “And you can’t.”

When we were out the door, I released my fingers that were gripping his shirt for dear life. We were still holding on to each other as we silently made our way to his car. He opened the door for me, helped me in and then rounded the car to enter on his side.

“I’m sorry about that,” I told him as we pulled off.

He kept his eyes on the road. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I know, but still…”

He glanced over at me. “I’ve known from the beginning that you were juggling men.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s not true.”

“Yes it—oh! Listen!” He turned up the music excitedly as a brand-new track from Super Casanova came on the radio.

Moving my shoulders to the beat, I closed my eyes and listened to the lyrics.

“I’m officially a Super Casanova fan,” I said when we were pulling into his neighborhood. “I can’t deny it.”

“So, I was right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Saint.”

“Say it.”

“You were right.”

“Mmm.” He reached over and put his hand on my thigh. “Say it again.”

“You were right,” I giggled.

He removed his hand to pull into his parking spot. “That’s one of the sexiest things you’ve said tonight.” Once he parked, he lifted his eyebrows. “And almost everything out of your mouth is sexy.”

There was a tightening deep within my belly. I opened my mouth to respond, but he opened his door and hopped out.

Grabbing the bag from the backseat, he smiled. “You ready?”

I nodded. “I’m ready.”

Even though he wasn’t talking about it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Cam was out of line. I’d ended things in the most respectful way, yet the way he approached us at the store was anything but. Even if he didn’t know it was a date, he mishandled the entire situation. And even worse, I didn’t know the extent of the damage it had done to my date with Saint.

We still have a whole meal to get through.

Walking into Saint’s home and smelling the gourmet macaroni and cheese in the air made my mouth water.

“It smells delicious in here,” I gushed.

He brought his lips to the shell of my ear. “Wait until you taste it.”

His words sent a tidal wave of desire through me.

Saint Anderson was sexy in general but seeing him cook was a seduction. The way he moved around the kitchen was like a dance I wanted to do with him. I kept asking questions and he entertained me, answering each one. But when I asked about the secret sauce, he just laughed and told me more about the cut of tenderloin. In half an hour, he was plating our food and even that was sexy.

“What can I get us to drink?” I asked, returning from washing my hands.

“There’s wine and then there’s tea, lemonade, juice, water… whatever you have a taste for,” he told me as he carried our meals to the table.

I grabbed the wine since I didn’t plan on driving and carried the bottle to the table. Sitting across from him, my eyes widened. “I’m impressed.”

He poured wine into both of our glasses and then we prayed over our food.

Rubbing his hands together, he grinned. “You ready?”

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