Zane Cyrus is a moody boxer from England. He hates small talk, fake politeness, happiness and most of all he hates it when people can't mind their own business.
Calista-Mae is the epitome of sweet. She cares deeply for those around her and will go...
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CALISTA
I WAKE up the next morning wearing one of Zane's shirts and a pair of his boxers. Nothing happend between us last night and now that I'm thinking about it I'm not sure how friendly it is to sleep in his bed, in his clothes without us doing anything, it almost violates our agreement.
I look over at him as he sleeps, laying on his front, arms spread around his pillow and smile. He looks so peaceful.
But then a familiar thought rings through my mind and slips onto the tip of my tounge, itching to be said. What are we even doing?
Instead, I get up to go and make us some tea. I can't make it as good as Zane can but I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture.
I stand, scrolling on my phone for a few minutes before adding in some milk for the both of us. I walk to go put the milk back in the fridge and scream when I'm faced with Zane as I turn around.
I grasp my chest, "Fucking hell Zane. Why are you so quiet?"
No matter how many times I see Zane shirtless, it still manages to amaze me. Tanned contoured skin with intricate tattoos that makes you tilt your head and say 'huh' and question if he's a man or some kind of Greek God.
"You weren't in my bed. I came to find you." He admits casually, grabbing the cup of tea I made him, taking a sip and then double taking.
"Did you make this?"
I panic, oh god. Is it that bad?
"Uh yeah."
"Hm, I've taught you well." Oh, nice.
I scoff, "I'm self taught actually. This is all me. Don't try and take the credit."
He flashes me a smile that weakens my knees, "Okay sweetheart, whatever you say."
Zane places his cup down on the counter and takes a few steps towards me, trapping me against the counter. I look up at him as his hands settle on my waist.
"Hi." I smile shyly.
"Hi Callie." He returns and my heart beat speeds up.
Zane lifts me onto the counter and I chew on my bottom lip as my bare skin comes into contact with the cool counter surface.
"You look good like this." He casually admits, dragging his hands up and down my body.
"Do I?" I question, tilting my head and he nods.
"Too good actually. We have a lot to do today and I can't be distracted." He tuts, moving impossibly closer.
"That's too bad." I whisper, my lips inches away from his.
Zane's hands land high on my thick thighs, squeezing them before returning to my waist and my stomach dips for a moment as a sad memory floods my mind.
