Zac looked Tula up and down. Even her expression seemed different. Harder somehow. Had their time apart broken her?
After everything she’d been through, he wouldn’t be surprised. Being separated had changed him, too. Only, now he felt even more attached. She had been the one thing that kept him from losing his shit while being held captive in the underworld.
“Well, dang. That’s disappointing,” Gola grumbled, swiping away a glob of drool forming on her chin. “I had reason to believe Zac might be here.”
Why would she believe that? “So you think he might show up?” Zac asked. “I mean, just so I can make a point to return later. My dating situation is urgent. I have…have…a wedding to go to next week.”
“We don’t know for certain,” Gola replied, “but if you run across him, please tell him to contact me. I mean Tula. Immediately. Tell him it’s urgent.”
Strange. Tula was letting the Unjolly Green Trollette do all the talking.
“Give me your number,” he said, “and I’ll be sure to contact you should I see him.”
Tula’s pocket began to cluck like a chicken. Bock, bock, bock… Her big blue eyes lit up. “Oh, must be my friend.”
“Friend? What friend?” barked Gola, who then proceeded to slurp up another thick string of drool dangling from the corner of her mouth.
Eesh…
“DJ Roost. He’s sooo hot,” Tula replied with a dreamy look in her baby blues. “I texted him earlier to let him know I was back in town.”
What the hell? Zac thought. He was about to tell Tula she was absolutely not allowed to have “hot” guy friends. Especially when Zac’d been chained naked to a wall in the underworld, being laughed at by nymphs. But before he could open his mouth, Gola piped up again.
“Tula—slurp!—you’re not allowed to have friends.”
“Yeah,” Zac agreed, nodding his head, which was super hard to do since he didn’t have a neck.
Tula ignored them both and began texting away, an ear-to-ear grin stretched across her pink little lips.
Gods, how I miss those lips. Zac wished he had a ladder to kiss them.
“What are you doing?” Gola tried to swipe Tula’s phone. “Stop that! I said no—slurp! Slurp!—friends!”
Tula pivoted and held the device out of reach.
Zac was genuinely confused by this new relationship of Tula’s. Gola was acting like Tula’s big sister.
“Give me that phone!” Gola kept reaching with her long, gangly arms. “I have important things to do, and I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“You do whatever you like,” Tula said to Gola, “but I’m accepting his invitation to the party tonight.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. I disappear for a while, and now Tula is texting men and going to parties? How is this possible? He was supposed to be the love of her life. Her one and only. Tula didn’t seem the least bit sad.
“I’m going with you!” he and Gola replied at the same time.
Tula raised a honey-blonde brow, her eyes toggling up and down between them. “Sure. The more the merrier.”
More the merrier, my crusty demon ass! Why wasn’t Tula getting all goosebumpy in his presence, huh? Why wasn’t she questioning the morality of going to a party to meet a man who wasn’t her fiancé?
I’ll kill the bastard. I’ll fucking kill him. Of course, if Zac did that, it could tip his hand. He was supposed to be Hilbert, a man who didn’t even know Tula.
I must remain in character. Hilbert, the heinous man with no neck, no dick, no muscles. But I’ll be damned if I show up to a party without leather pants.
“Can you give me the address?” Zac asked Tula. “I need to buy an outfit and want to look my best. Being single and all.”
Tula crinkled her perky nose. “Sure. Whatever. But don’t get your hopes up. It’s actors, models, and cool people all the way.”
Ouch. What a snob. Zac was beginning to question if he knew the real Tula. Was there a hidden side to her? Had she been pretending with him?
But that couldn’t be right. Tula was good. He felt it in his heart, and even Cimil had said there’d never been a purer human with a kinder soul.
Hold the fuck on. His mind slammed into a messy brick wall. What if Tula was an illusion, another trap created by Cimil? In reality, he’d formed his initial opinions according to what Cimil’d said. “Forbidden fruit. Too good for you.”
Zac’s insides twisted. That manipulative…that horrible…Cimil! She was a pro when it came to pushing people’s buttons. It was her gift. And she made me want Tula more than anything in the world. All Cimil had to do was say the right words, throw a few roadblocks out, and create an image in his mind of the perfect woman—someone so good, so untemptable that he couldn’t resist her.
Mind you, these were not new thoughts. Zac had contemplated Cimil’s devious nature and her role in his and Tula’s relationship thousands of times. But again and again, Zac fell back on his own needs and wants. His own temptations.
Fuck me. Had Cimil pulled off the ultimate dupe? Because clearly this version of Tula wasn’t the one he’d left behind. No mourning, no searching for him, no trying to find a way to be reunited with him. It was like she didn’t care.
But here was the thing: He still loved her.
He. Loved. Her. As in, worshiped the ground she walked on, idolized the soap that cleansed her granny panties, and adored the air around her that caressed her soft, silky skin. If they opened a store called All Things Tula, he’d buy every damned thing in it.
Didn’t matter if he was a god or the most attractive, ripped, hung deity ever to walk the Universe. Didn’t matter if he could have any woman he desired. Zac had lived for over seventy thousand years, and Tula was the only being his soul felt bonded to.
He. Loved. Her.
So if she’d been putting on an act because of some stupid scheme concocted with Cimil, so be it. His feelings were real. And that meant their connection was real on some level.
And it means that I must give her the benefit of the doubt. Zac had to allow Tula the opportunity to feel their connection without Cimil, Maury, or anyone else in the mix.
I got this. Seventy thousand years of experience in human nature and tempting people. Tonight, he would pull out all the stops. Tonight, I will tempt Tula to listen to her heart.
Zac stepped forward with his stubby legs, reaching for Tula’s hand. “I will see you tonight, Tula. Save a dance for me.” He kissed her hand.
She jerked it away, and her face contorted with disgust. “Er, yeah. Sure.” She jabbed repeatedly to call the elevator back up.
“Make sure you text me if you see Zac, okay?” Gola walked over to his desk and jotted her number on a piece of paper. “It’s really important.” Slurp! She handed it over.
“Sure.” Zac hesitantly took the number, wincing as he watched a thick stream of drool slide from the corner of Gola’s lopsided mouth and hit the floor. Who is this woman? Why is she in Tula’s life? Has she ever heard of a drool bib?
The elevator chimed open, and Gola and Tula stepped inside. As the doors closed, he caught Gola’s gaze. Something tingled in the deepest corner of his mind.