“Then I guess I should take you back to my place tonight,” I tell her with a grin, since I don’t plan on sleeping anytime soon and Zoe can get pretty loud.
“Sure. Let’s go back to your place,” Zoe agrees, biting her bottom lip. “As long as you promise not to kick me out of your bed in the morning.”
“I promise,” I tell her, cupping her face in my hands. “Never again. If you decide to go to Paris or anywhere else again, I’m going with you.”
“I think my modeling days are over,” she admits with a sigh. “And I’m okay with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” she answers. “I’m not sure what I’ll do now, but I’ll figure it out.”
“You can do any fucking thing you want,” I tell her. “As long as you stay here.”
“Okay,” Zoe says, which isn’t exactly a promise, but it’s a start.
“You want to hop on behind me so I can get us out of here? We’ll come back in the morning for your things, and to talk to Martin and my mom.”
“Sure,” she agrees, climbing off the bike to rearrange her dress. I stand up to put my dick away, belatedly remembering the gash in my thigh. “Fuck,” I hiss, zipping up and sitting back down again.
“Are you okay?” Zoe asks.
“Yeah, I just have a sore leg. It’s nothing. Climb on up and let’s go home.”
“Home?” Zoe repeats as she throws her leg over and wraps her arms around my waist.
“Our home,” I tell her, cranking the engine before she can protest. Letting her leave my apartment ten years ago was the stupidest thing I ever did. I don’t plan on making that mistake again.
By the time we make the twenty-minute drive to my place, my leg is so sore every tiny movement hurts. It was cold again for a little while, but now it’s burning, as if a hot coal is lodged inside me. I can only hope it’s not getting infected.
Once Zoe and I are inside the apartment, locked up tight for the night, the exhaustion and blood loss finally hit me. I limp over to the recliner and that’s as far as I can go before I crash.
Zoe turns on a table lamp and gasps. “Winston!” she exclaims, crouching down to peel back my torn jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
“It’s not that bad.”
“You’ve got blood running down to your shoes!” she protests as she wrestles with my belt buckle, then drags my pants down my legs. “You’ve got a bandana wrapped around your thigh! What the hell happened?”
“I think a bullet grazed me.”
“A bullet?” Zoe exclaims, her jaw dropping. She stands up and starts toward the door, then back to me. “We…you…we need to get you to the hospital, and I don’t have a car!”
“Calm down, baby. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!”
“Sure I am. I just need to clean it up and put a bandage on it. Can you grab my first-aid kit? It’s in the bathroom cabinet under the sink.”
“Bathroom cabinet sink?” Zoe repeats.
“Yep.”
She disappears in a rush and then I hear her rummaging around in the cabinet before she quickly returns with the red plastic box in her hand. Tears streak down her cheeks.
“Oh, baby, don’t cry.”
“You’re hurt!” she sniffles as she kneels down beside the recliner. Pulling out an alcohol wipe, she dabs it over the wound. There’s an initial sting, but then Zoe says, “I love you and you could’ve died, and I would’ve been so pissed at you!” Her words immediately make me forget the pain.
I stare down at her in awe as she cleans up the blood, then rubs on antibiotic cream before covering the four or five-inch gash with butterfly closures.
“Y-you need stiches,” she hiccups.
“Nah, I just need you,” I tell her, running my fingers through her long hair to brush it back from her damp face.
“You should’ve told me earlier…when I was sitting on you,” she sniffles again as she glances up at me, her green eyes glistening.
“It didn’t hurt then,” I assure her. “All I felt was you. Now come up here on my lap so I can hold you.”
Zoe stands up and hesitates, eyeing my sore leg before she goes around and climbs up on my other side. Cupping the back of her head, I pull her mouth down to mine to kiss her. “I love you.”
She ducks her head, fisting my leather cut and pressing her face into my chest. Then I feel her tears soaking into my shirt as she whispers, “I love you too. Just…please don’t hurt me.”
“Never again,” I promise her when I place a kiss on the top of her head.
And that’s a promise I plan to keep for the rest of my life, no matter what it takes.
Chapter Twenty
Zoe
* * *
Last night was emotionally exhausting. Winston and I were both so tired we fell asleep in his recliner until the sun came up. I think a small part of me was avoiding his bed because of what happened the last time I was in it. Maybe I thought that if we slept in his bed again, it would jinx us and everything would go to hell.
Even though I’m nervous about his bedroom, this morning, when Winston groaned as he tried to stretch his leg, I knew he needed to go lay down and get comfortable. I helped him limp to his room, then joined him in bed, both of us naked. But when he tried to get me to climb on top of him, I refused, scared I would hurt him.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” Winston assures me.
“I know I’m not, because I’m not going to fuck you again until your leg stops bleeding.”
“Fine,” he says with a heavy exhale and a grin as he pulls me closer to his side.
“So, what’s the plan for the day?” I ask, running my fingertips up and down his abs with a sense of déjà vu, worried about what happens next for us.
“I guess we should talk to our parents, tell them they can go back home and that we’re together, right?” Winston asks.
“Right,” I agree with a smile.
“And you’re moving back home?”
“That would make the most sense, I think.”
“Good. Fuck,” he says with a sigh. Reaching for my hand, he lifts my knuckles to his lips and places a kiss on them, but doesn’t let go. “That’s all I want…you here with me.”
“But you would prefer if I stopped taking topless photos too?” I tease him.
He chuckles. “That would be the icing on the cake, yeah.”
“Then, I guess we’ll see,” I say, not making any promises just yet.
“And I’ll try and keep an open mind,” Winston agrees. “You ready to face the firing squad?”
“It’s not going to be that bad. I told you my dad wasn’t even very surprised.”
“That doesn’t mean he approves,” he mutters. “Either way, I want to get this conversation out of the way. Don’t want Martin thinking I ran off yesterday just because I thought he might shoot me.”
“No, someone else did that!” I huff. “You have to be careful. I can’t lose you, now that I’m here with you, and happy.”