I nod for him to go on. I have no idea what his question could be, but he’s been such a great friend to me, coming all the way here to comfort me.
“Okay, well . . .” He pauses, drawing out a long breath. “I was wondering what happened between you and Hardin.” He bites down on his bottom lip.
I quickly look away. “I don’t know if we should discuss Hardin, and I . . .”
“I don’t need specifics. I just want to know if it’s really, truly over this time?”
I swallow. It’s hard to say, but I reply, “It is.”
“You’re sure?”
What? I turn back to look at him. “Yes, but I don’t see what—”
I’m cut off by Zed’s lips pressing against mine. His hands move to my hair and his tongue pushes through my closed mouth. I gasp in surprise and he takes that as an invitation to push further and press his body against me, forcing me back against the mattress.
Confused and caught off guard, my body reacts quickly and my hands shove against his chest. He hesitates for a moment, still trying to melt his mouth to mine.
“What are you doing?” I gasp, the moment that he finally lets up.
“What?” His eyes are wide and his lips are swollen from the pressure against mine.
“Why did you do that?” I jump to my feet, completely thrown by his affections, and I’m trying desperately not to overreact.
“What? Kiss you?”
“Yes!” I shout at him before quickly covering my mouth. The last thing I need is my mother coming in.
“You said that you and Hardin were finished! You just said that!” His voice comes out louder than mine, but he makes no move to silence himself the way I did.
Why would he think this is okay? Why would he kiss me?
Instinctively, I cross my arms over my chest, and I realize I’m trying to cover myself up. “That wasn’t an invitation for you to make a move or something! I thought you were here to comfort me as a friend.”
He scoffs. “A friend? You know how I feel about you! You’ve always known how I felt about you!”
I’m baffled by the roughness of his tone with me. He’s always been so understanding. What’s changed?
“Zed, you agreed that we would be friends—you know how I feel about him.” I keep my voice as calm and neutral as I possibly can despite the panic inside my chest. I don’t want to hurt Zed’s feelings, but he is way out of line.
He rolls his eyes. “No, I don’t know how you feel about him, because you two go back and forth, back and forth. You change your mind on a weekly basis, and I’m always waiting, waiting, waiting.”
I shrink back. I barely recognize this Zed; I want the old one back. The Zed that I trust and care for isn’t here.
“I know that. I know that’s what we do, but I thought that I made myself clear about—”
“Hanging all over me doesn’t exactly send that message.” His voice is flat, cold, and a set of chills run down my spine at the difference in him that has appeared in the last two minutes.
I’m offended and confused by his accusation. “I wasn’t hanging all over you.” He couldn’t possibly believe that! “You put your arm around me to comfort me at my father’s funeral. I thought it was a lovely gesture; I didn’t mean for you to take it any other way. I certainly didn’t. Hardin was there—you couldn’t have possibly thought that I would be affectionate with you in front of him?”
The echo of a cabinet closing sounds through the small house, and I’m infinitely relieved when Zed makes an effort to lower his voice. “Why not? You have used me to make him jealous before,” he whispers harshly.
I want to defend myself, but I know he’s right. Not about everything, but his point is valid here. “I know I have in the past, and I’m sorry for that. I really am. I’ve told you how sorry I was before, and I’ll say it again: you have always been there for me, and I appreciate you so much, but I thought we talked about this. I thought you understood that you and I could only have a friendship, if that.”
He waves his hands through the air. “You’re so whipped by him that you don’t even see just how in deep you are.” The warm glow of his eyes has dropped in temperature, settling at a chilled amber.
“Zed,” I sigh in defeat. I didn’t want to fight with him, not after the week I’ve had. “I’m sorry, okay? I really am, but you are behaving completely inappropriately right now. I thought we were friends.”
“We aren’t,” he spits. “I thought you just needed more time, I thought this would be my shot at finally having you, and you threw me away. Again.”
“I can’t give you what you want—you know I can’t. It’s impossible for me. Right or wrong, Hardin has left his mark on me, and I wouldn’t be able to give myself to you, to anyone, I fear.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them.
The look in Zed’s eyes when I’m finished with my pathetic speech has me reeling, grasping, for any hint of the harmless but hopeful Mr. Collins I thought I knew. Instead, I’m standing in this bedroom staring at the pushy and fake Wickham, who pretended to be charming and loyal to gain affections, hurt by Darcy in the past, when he was really a liar.
I make my move for the door. How could I have been so foolish? Elizabeth would grab me by the shoulders and shake sense into me. I spent so much time defending Zed against Hardin, making his worries about Zed out to be a dramatic rambling out of jealousy, when Hardin was right the entire time.