And why did it ache so much? He should be relieved that she wasn't thinking of him in that way.
Hell, this was ridiculous. He'd never struggled with his conscience where a woman was concerned. He'd never cared what they wanted him for, or thought of him. And a kiss had never affected him so much.
"Guess this awkward silence means we're not having that drink," she said.
He glanced at her. Her face was still streaked with ice cream and her lips pouted. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she stared straight ahead. Damn. He'd hurt her feelings. He may not be her type but she was sensitive. He needed to remember that and be more careful with his words, and his kisses.
"Annie," he said quietly, then thought better about yet another apology and said, "of course we are. If you want."
She shrugged and he took that as a yes.
They drove the remainder of the distance in silence.
He carried her parcels into her building, trying not to step on Snoopy as he made his presence known at Zack's ankles.
When he came out of her bedroom, Annie had already poured herself a glass of white wine. She handed him a bottle of beer. Now came the awkward bit. She glared at him over her glass, but every time they made eye contact, she lowered them and pretended to study its contents.
Damn, it wasn't fair. All women knew guys weren't very good at apologizing, or at explaining for that matter. What did she expect—groveling?
"Look, Annie," he began then stopped. He hadn't a clue what to say next. Sorry I kissed you? It'll never happen again? He didn't want to dig a deeper hole for himself.
But she made it easier for him. "I understand," she said quietly. Which meant she didn't understand at all. He wasn't a complete dumbass when it came to women. "Let's just forget about it. It shouldn't have happened."
She was right. They both knew it. And it was what he wanted—not the awkwardness but the emotional distance between them. So why did he feel like someone was using his rib cage as a drum? He opened his mouth, closed it again and decided to do the safest thing. He took a long drink of beer to give himself time to think.
But before he could swallow she said, "I'll be back in a minute," and disappeared into the bedroom.
***
Annie closed her bedroom door and flopped on the bed. She needed some space, time to think things through. Apparently she'd told Zack he wasn't her type of guy. What an idiot! It was true, but did she have to tell him? Sure, he was out of her league, but he'd kissed her. Her! Who knew where it could have led. If only he didn't keep breaking off the kisses...
She thunked her forehead. Reality check. Of course he broke off their kiss. He didn't want to take it any further, or for her to read more into it. So his hormones occasionally took over—well, he was a man—but he was able to get the better of them at the crucial moment.
She sighed deeply and stifled unshed tears. Maybe it was just as well. Taking the kiss further wouldn't be a good idea, and she probably would read more into it than was really there. And deep down, she knew there never would be more.
She hopped off the bed and picked up one of the shopping bags. She dumped the contents onto the bed and selected one of the tiny tops. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing it outside the house. Until now. She had looked okay in it. And the leather pants. The look in Zack's eyes when he saw her in them had made her feel good. Womanly. Sexy.
Well, she needed an ego boost...
***
In the lounge room, Zack finished his beer. Now what? He headed into the kitchen and retrieved another from the fridge. The only remotely edible thing in it was a hunk of cheese. He sliced it up and ate it.
"You really don't eat well, Annie," he called out to the closed bedroom door. No answer. "Maybe you should go to the supermarket once in a while."
Still no answer and she wouldn't usually let that comment pass without a retort.
Something was wrong. He'd hurt her more than he'd realized. What now? Should he barge into her bedroom and...what? Console her? Maybe he should take her out to dinner. He could promise to take her shopping again—what woman would refuse that? He could talk to her, but he wasn't sure how effective that would be considering he'd already put his foot in it too many times already.
He switched on her TV, hoping to draw her out with the noise but there was no movement coming from the bedroom. He glanced down at Snoopy. The dog sat on his haunches and stared back, panting and happily drooling on the floor.
"What are you looking at?" Zack growled.
Snoopy lifted two doggy eyebrows at him.
"Okay, okay, I know. You're right. I have to go and talk to her." But he didn't move. He tapped his fingers against the beer bottle and drew in a deep breath, then glanced at Snoopy again. "I'll give you a doggy biscuit if you go talk to her."
Snoopy stayed put.
Zack rose, sighing. "You're right. I wouldn't do it for one of those things either."
He crossed the lounge and lifted his hand to knock on her bedroom door but stopped. She'd only tell him to go away. And he really wanted to talk to her, clear the air. So he just opened the door instead.
And stopped dead in his tracks.
Annie was naked.
CHAPTER 9
Annie stood with her back to Zack, studying her reflection in the long mirror. Now that he'd had a few more seconds to drink her in, he realized she wasn't entirely naked—a thong sliced through two exquisite butt cheeks.
His breath caught and his groin throbbed.
Then Annie whipped around, the new leather pants held up to cover her from br**sts to thighs. Only she'd forgotten about the mirror and Zack had a perfect view of that perfect behind.
"What are you doing?" she cried, color flooding her cheeks.
"Um..."
She bit her lip and shifted her weight, but to her credit, her glare didn't falter.
He should remind her about the mirror. He really, really should remind her. A chivalrous man would.
Who was he kidding? No man in his right mind would remind her—the view was way too tantalizing. And the glimpse he'd caught of the rest of her hinted at what else had been hidden under her jeans and T-shirt all day.
"Um," he said again, trying desperately to think of something to say. For some reason, his brain didn't work and he couldn't come up with anything sensible, so he said, "Why are you naked?" Dumbass, stupid question.
"I was trying on these pants," she said stiffly.
"I see." Oh boy, did he see all right. "So how do they look?"
She frowned, her face flushed, gaze locked with his. Then they widened to the size of saucers and he knew he was done for.