Chapter 53

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ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖

Kieran walks up to my table in the restaurant patio. He's wearing ultra-tight, distressed grey jeans, black trainers, and a black shirt with cut-off sleeves. The shirt is emblazoned with big white text that says "I like my men how I like my women."

"Alright, Z-Man, care to explain to me why you had me meet you at fuckin' House of Soup here?" he asks, pointing to the restaurant sign with a laugh.

He takes a seat across from me and his eyes narrow as he looks at me.

"Okay, yeah, I was already pretty confused by your choice of restaurant, but that creepy-ass smile on your face is giving me the heebie-jeebies. Why are you in such a good mood? Is the soup spiked? Is it people?" he asks.

"Oh my god!" he yells, far louder than anyone should in a restaurant. "THE SOUP IS PEOPLE!"

I grab his wrist and shoot him a glare.

"Stop being a knob, mate."

"Damn!" he exclaims. "You're getting really strong. Somebody's been eating their Wheaties!"

"Why did I agree to hang out with you again?" I say with a smile.

"Probably because your girlfriend is busy."

"Good point."

"Speaking of which... you... smell different."

"And that has something to do with Ava being busy?"

"You smell like her," he says. "Like a lot. And not just in the usual way of having been constantly up in that pussy."

A growl resonates from deep in my throat and my hand finds its way instantly around his throat, tightening as I pull him toward me.

"You talk about Ava like that again and I'll free your eyeballs from your skull."

"Whoa!" he says, his voice strained under the pressure of my grip. "Shit, Zane, you're... really... fuck... can I breathe, please?"

"Technically you don't need to breathe," I say as I release him.

"Okay, man, but I do consider it a personal preference," he says, coughing slightly. "Damn, being with Ava has turned you into The Hulk. A really grumpy, territorial Hulk."

He rubs his throat and takes a sip of my water.

Shit. Maybe he's got a point. That was a bit of an intense reaction, even for me.

"Fair dues," I say. "Er, sorry mate. I uh... may be affected by uh... the marking."

Kieran chokes mid-drink and coughs water onto the table.

"What??" he shrieks. "You did it? You did the mark thing? No fuckin' way!"

"Yes fuckin' way," I say. " Ava ended up getting really sick and, well, long story short, it's done."

"Damn!" he says. "That's why you smell like Ava, then? And why you're so damn cheery? Minus the trying to squeeze my head off, of course."

"Maybe," I say, feeling a smirk stretch across my face.

Okay, he's right. It feels good. Really good.

She's mine—forever.

"Still doesn't explain the sudden soup interest," he jokes.

"Oh yeah, well... Ava's across the street meeting one of her web design clients," I say, pointing to the coffee shop opposite the restaurant.

"And she needed a chaperone?" he asks.

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