We remain in this suspended state for what seems forever, but is probably no more than mere moments.
Kaye breaks the trance with a sigh.
“Thank you. I appreciate it, and I can really use a friend right now.”
And just like that, I get relegated to the friend zone.
What the fuck just happened?
Disappointment and shock hit me like a ton of bricks. It’s a fight to keep my face impassive. I turn away, not wanting her to see the disappointment in my eyes. I allow myself one final moment before backing off completely, firmly claiming my role in the dreaded friend zone.
“Just call if you need me.” I shove my hands into my pockets and walk away.
If it weren’t for Douchebag Scott, I wouldn’t be forced to accept friendship in place of something more.
Just friends?
Forever?
I refuse to accept it. It’s not fair. Not where this night was meant to go. I want way more from Kaye, but she’s not ready, too twisted by Scott’s threats.
And I can’t beat him to a pulp. That’s not fair. It’s not right. The asshole deserves a thorough ass-beating.
This sucks.
It really sucks.
I swallow my disappointment, turn away, and force myself to retreat to where the others gather around the gas fire pit. Nothing prepares me for the hollow feeling growing inside of me.
So, I grab another beer and drink myself into oblivion.
ELEVEN
Zeb
Summer speeds by as the weeks pass. I find myself frustrated both on the home front and at work.
Mitzy’s technical team makes no inroads into Maximus Angelo’s human trafficking operation, except to confirm the bastard’s back at it. Until that’s put to rest, we continue the protective detail at the townhome.
Rafe and Hayes take the brunt of the shifts providing protection for the girls. Their shifts last 48-hours each, depending on what’s going on at work. That’s four days out of seven when I have no legitimate reason to be around Kaye.
Brady, Booker, Alec, and I split the rest of the 24-hr shifts, which means I get to see Kaye once a week at best; sometimes far less.
It’s been two weeks, and I hate it.
When not frustrated by work, I wrack my brain trying to figure out why Kaye seems so distant and remote. Something’s changed in her.
After walking the perimeter, I return to the living room and fall back on the couch with frustration.
“Hey, Sexy Guardian.” Barbi waves to me as I hang out in the living room. “Howzit hangin’?”
“A little to the left. How are the girls?”
“Plumped and ready for a night on the town.” She stops in the hall and does a little spin in a skintight cocktail dress. “How do I look?”
“Positively sinful.”
Barbi’s a hot mess, but a stunning woman. She’s got a great sense of humor. After hearing one of my exchanges with Mitzy, she adopted the Howzit hanging routine as her own. It’s now our official greeting.
“Where’s Kaye? Is she going out with you?” I hate that I have to ask. I should know, but Kaye’s in her own world these days. Whenever I see her, her expression is closed and distant. I barely get a smile.
“Ah, you poor, poor man.” Barbi shakes her head. “Trapped in the dreaded friend zone.”
“Don’t remind me.” I roll my eyes in an Oscar worthy performance.
“When are you going to get off your ass and tell her how you feel?” Barbi crosses her arms over her chest and stares down her nose at me.
“You know why I haven’t.”
Barbi’s become my confidant over the past few weeks, and a bit of a co-conspirator. Unlike Rafe and Hayes who’ve told me in no uncertain terms to stay away, Barbi wants me and Kaye to get together.
“Is Scott still bothering her?” It’s a question I ask myself a hundred times a day.
“Why don’t you ask her?” Barbi may be my confidant and co-conspirator, but she won’t do my job for me.
“Because she always seems so uncomfortable when I bring it up.”
“She’s not seeing him. If that’s what you’re worried about.” Barbi glides into the room and gracefully slides into the padded chair across from the couch I’ve appropriated as my own. “Not that you ever ask.”
“Not my business to know.”
“Yeah, but you want to know. As far as I’m aware, things have cooled off with him.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, no more packages of dog shit for one thing.” Her flippant attitude irritated me at first, but when I realized it’s how she jokes around, I got over myself. Barbi’s a solid friend; to me and to Kaye.
“She’s rarely around.” I sound like a grumpy teenager not getting his way. “How do you know she’s not back with him?”
I’m in a shit mood, because I’m pining for Kaye like a lovestruck puppy dog. I’m not a damn puppy dog. I’m more of a Doberman; a fiercely protective… Why the fuck am I comparing myself to dogs?
I know why.
News flash, I’m in my longest dry spell since I was a horny teen desperate for sex of any kind.
And I’m cranky because I’m not getting any sex. Haven’t since I met Kaye. Between work and guard duties at the townhouse, my social life—aka sex life—is on a definite downturn.
“Well, she hasn’t mentioned it to me, and she tells me everything.” Barbi yanks down the bottom of her dress. It barely covers her ass.
“There’s distance growing between us.” I grumble and mutter like a lovestruck fool.
“Do you think Kaye feels awkward after sharing so much?” Barbi’s well aware of what Kaye shared with me that night on the roof. She makes no bones about wanting things between me and Kaye to work out.
“I don’t know.” I drag my hand down my face and pull at my chin. “This friend zone stuff is for the birds. I’m about ready to pull out my hair.”
“Then make a point to talk to her.” Barbi flicks her lashes, exacerbated by my failure to act and rolls her eyes. “Better yet, go in there and kiss her already.” She makes a vague gesture with her hand. “I’m certainly not coming home tonight if things work out.” She flashes a mischievous grin. “You’ve got the room to yourselves.”
“I’m not going to go in there and molest her.”
“How do you know that’s not exactly what she wants? And I didn’t mean that you should molest her. I meant talk to her. Why are men such thick-headed idiots?”
“Has she specifically told you she’s not seeing him?”
“No.” Barbi curls her fingers and flips her hand around to admire her impeccable manicure. “Her nose is always in her books and she has zero time for me, let alone you. At night, she goes to bed early, says she’s too tired to stay up. Maybe you should give her some slack?”
A studious individual, Kaye is trying to get a head start on her first semester at UC Davis’s world-renowned veterinary school.
“You’re right; she’s probably stressed.” I don’t like how defensive I sound, but I’m in unknown territory.