Forever Bonded (BWWM Pregnancy Romance) (2 page)

Evan
smirked at her and extended his hand to Audrey before adding, “I'm her
boyfriend.”

Audrey
sized him up for a second before speaking. “Well, it's nice to meet you, Evan,”
she remarked in a lackluster tone, quickly turning her attention back towards
Nate.

Zoë
rolled her eyes at the snide look of satisfaction that etched its way across Audrey's
face as she pulled Nate into a nauseatingly passionate kiss, overcompensating
as usual.

This
was all Aniyah's fault. She was the one who enticed Zoë and Nate to tag
along for this, and the “play nice” mantra was completely her own. With that in
mind, Zoë was also blaming Aniyah for the rather large Sazerac she was gulping
down at an alarming rate. She didn't have a choice. If she was going to make it
through this night in one piece, she'd need a little liquid reinforcement.

“This
is such an interesting place,” Audrey called out to no one in particular. “My
parents own a few lounges up by the Vieux Carré, granted, they're a lot more
upscale.”

Zoë
sighed inwardly. Those kinds of pretentious remarks were exactly why she’d come
to loath Audrey.

“But
don't get me wrong,” Audrey continued, slowly taking in her surroundings. “This
is nice. It's really...
urban.
”

Zoë
gave Audrey a foul look as she swallowed back the last of her drink and waved
down a passing cocktail waitress for another.

Audrey
must have noticed that her diatribe wasn’t too popular with the table, because
she was quick to find an out. “The ladies room,” she spoke up, pulling herself
to her feet. “Where is it?”

“Down
the hall to the left,” Nate instructed.

Audrey
flashed him an anxious smile before grabbing up her designer purse and
sauntering away. When she was finally gone, Zoë let out a breath of relief and
looked down at the now empty glass in her hands.

Her
next drink couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter three

Nate nursed
his beer as he surveyed the dimly lit dance floor where Audrey and Aniyah were
seen dancing amongst a sea of Mardi Gras bead laden tourists. After parting
ways with his co-workers, Caleb had went up to the bar to catch that last half
of the basketball game on the large plasma screens that surrounded it, and Evan
was quick to tag-along. That left Nate and Zoë completely alone in each other’s
presence.

“Sorry
about Audrey,” Nate spoke up. “She just…she doesn't always think before she
speaks.”

Zoë smirked.
“So I see,” she muttered, refusing to pry her hand from her chin. Her boredom
was more than a little apparent.

The
pair sat in silence for a moment, taking in the swarm of sweaty bodies that surrounded
them as they each worked at avoiding each other’s gaze.

“She
means well,” Nate insisted. “Really, she's a sweet girl once you get to know
her. She's just a little—”

“I get
it,” Zoë interrupted. “She's great. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Can we maybe
just talk about something other than her for once?”

An
amused smile worked its way across Nate’s chiseled features. “You're never
going to like her, are you?” he remarked, letting out a soft laugh.

“Probably
not,” Zoë admitted, turning to look him in the eye for the first time in
minutes. “But then again…I don't really like any of the women you tend to
gravitate towards, so she shouldn't be too flattered.”

Nate
smiled and held Zoë's gaze for just a split second too long to be platonic.

“So,
why aren't you out there?” Zoë questioned in an attempt at breaking the
awkwardness, nodding at Audrey.

Regardless
of her lack of rhythm, Zoë understood why men always seemed to gravitate
towards the girl. She was a stunner. There wasn't any denying that.

“Do you
really need a reminder?” Nate replied.

Zoë
stared at him with faux gullibility, feigning as though she had no idea what he
was referring to.

“My
parents wedding. A 500-dollar cake. My frosting covered tux. Any of that
ringing a bell?”

Zoë
laughed as the incident replayed in vivid detail in her head. “Oh I remember,”
she told him. “I just didn't realize it had scarred you for life.”

“Haha,”
Nate muttered.

“Oh
come on,” Zoë chastised, nudging him in the side. “How old were you when that happened?
10? As adorable as it is, I think it's time you get over your embarrassment.
Are you really trying to live up to the whole 'white boys can't dance' trope?”

“Some
guys dance, and some guys don't,” Nate said with a slight shrug. “I just happen
to fall into the latter category.”

“You
sure about that?”

Nate
nodded.

“Up,”
Zoë demanded, standing up and extending her small hand to him. When he didn’t
budge, she sighed and crossed her arms.

Nate
offered her a slight grin as a sense of nostalgia settled over him. He knew the
mischievous look in her eyes well enough to know that it meant trouble.

“Nate,”
Zoë said just a little too sweetly, leaning in so that they were eye to eye.
“Will you please do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Nate
froze when he felt Zoë’s palm make soft contact with his forearm. When he
didn't say anything, she fluttered her long lashes at him and gave him a coy
pout.

“Really?”
Nate stated. “Since when do you beg? Who are you and what have you done with
Zoë Powell?”

Zoë
sighed dramatically. “Forget it,” she said, sitting back down as her normal
demeanor returned in full force. “It works on Evan.”

“Yeah,
well, I'm not Evan,” Nate said just a little too forcefully. He clenched his
jaw and fidgeted with his Rolex, but the furrow between his brows softened when
he looked up and found Zoë staring at him.

Zoë
wasn't sure if it was all the liquor in her blood stream or the sudden rush of
desire that was making its way through her, but she was feeling unusually
brazen even by her standards. Not giving Nate any time to protest, she pulled
him upwards and escorted him out onto the crowded dance floor, allowing her
small fingers to fit perfectly into his.

When
Zoë was sure that Audrey was nowhere within their line of vision, she began to
move in time with the music, using Nate's stiff form as a point of reference.
“Oh come on,” she said when he remained immobile. “I didn't drag you out here
for you to do your best Queen’s Guard impression.”

“Well
what did you expect?” Nate countered. “It's not like I claimed to be Bobby
Brown or something. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Zoë
sighed and turned to face him. Before he could react, she grabbed hold of his
hands and placed them firmly on her hips. “Just follow my lead,” she instructed.

“What?”
Nate balked.

“My
movements. Follow them. Come on, Nate, I'm making this as easy as I possibly
can for you.”

Zoë
began dancing again, only this time Nate's sturdy figure was pressed a lot more
firmly behind hers. She could feel how tightly wound he was, but as the
song gathered in tempo, he began to loosen up and take the reigns, until the
gap between them was so small that she could feel his breath against her neck.

Zoë
reached back to snake her arms around Nate’s neck, bringing them closer
together as everyone around them seemed to fade into the background. It wasn't
until she heard his breath hitch in his throat that she was brought back down
to reality.

Zoë
sighed when she spotted Audrey standing on the outskirts of the dance floor
watching them like a hawk. If looks could kill, she was as good as dead.

Nate
straightened up and pulled away from Zoë just as quickly as they'd come
together, unlatching his hands from her hips and clearing his throat in an
attempt at appearing normal. Not that it mattered. The damage was already done.

“I'm
ready to go,” Audrey announced as she approached them. Gone were the
sugary-sweet pretenses Zoë had grown accustomed to from her. The pinched up
look on her face did a pretty good job of illustrating just how pissed off she
was.

Audrey
grabbed hold of Nate's arm like a shark going in for a kill and pulled him
towards the door without another word.

When
they were finally gone, having disappeared into the flock of tourists making
their way down Bourbon Street, Zoë made her way back to the booth and swallowed
back the last of her drink. She knew the ache that had settled into the pit of
her chest all too well, and she also knew that she shouldn't have been feeling
it. She had Evan, and she was perfectly happy with him.

Wasn't she?

Zoë
sighed and dug through her purse for a stick of gum, hoping the chewing would
calm her nerves. Surely this had to be nothing more than all the liquor in her
bloodstream playing tricks on her. Yeah. That had to be it. It had nothing to
do with Nate and the smoldering way in which he touched her.

Nothing.

Chapter four

Zoë
awoke the following morning to the smell of breakfast and wearily opened her eyes.
After taking a moment to adjust to the sunlight, she crawled out of bed and
rummaged through the blankets for her clothing before making her way into the
kitchen in search of Evan.

“Morning,”
he said as soon as she entered. “Or should I say afternoon?”

Zoë
returned his smile and took a seat behind the island to watch him work. He was
going back and forth between the oven and the counter, and hefty plates stacked
full of corned beef hash, Pain Perdu doused in powdered sugar, scrambled eggs,
and fresh cut bacon surrounded him.

Zoë
leaned forward to grab a piece of bacon and bit into it before he could stop
her. As with everything else, it was cooked to perfection. This, Zoë decided,
had to be one of the biggest perks of dating a chef. Eating well came with the
territory.

“I’m
guessing I did good?” Evan questioned, eyeing her with slight amusement as she
dug in.

Zoë
nodded and licked the excess grease from her fingertips. “Sure did,” she
replied. “But what else is new?”

Evan
smirked and set the pan he was holding back down on the stove before retrieving
a piece of sourdough bread from the toaster and biting into it. This was what
he always did. He made Zoë amazing breakfasts just to eat like a bird himself.
“Hey, so…what was up with that Audrey chick last night?” he questioned as she
grabbed a plate and dug in, pulling off his apron and taking a seat beside her.

Zoë
tensed at the reminder of what had transpired the previous night. She was
actually hoping it was something she’d be able to forget. “What do you mean?”
she questioned in a nonchalant tone, attempting to mask her anxiety with her
usual air of disinterest.

 
“I don't know. She just seemed a little
pissed off about something.”

“That’s
just Audrey,” Zoë lied, focusing on her food. “I wouldn’t read too much into
it. She’s like the Dow. You can never really know when she’s going to be up or
down.”

Evan
laughed at the remark and picked up a fork, stealing a bite of Zoë’s eggs.
“Well I’m surprised Nate went for someone like her after he had you. I know
she’s a model, but talk about a downgrade. No man wants a woman with less shape
than him.”

Zoë
froze in mid-bite. She knew Evan was attempting to give her a compliment, but
all it did was make her feel awkward. As much as she liked to joke, she wasn’t
one for men comparing two women for the sake of flattery. Especially not when
she was one of them.

“Yeah,
well, Nate’s always had a very eclectic taste in women,” she said with a shrug,
standing up to pour herself a mug of coffee.

Evan stared
at her for a second before speaking again. “You mind if I ask you something?”
he questioned, suddenly serious.