Do It Like That

Zoe got to the Starbucks in record time, thanks to Chevlyn's tendency to speed in times of pressure.

"Do you need me to come in with you?" Chevlyn asked, reaching for her buckle, watching Zoe for her answer.

Zoe half-smiled. "I don't need you to..."

Chevlyn understood. "Do you want me to? Just say the word, sweetheart. You know what I'd do for my best friend."

Zoe almost started begging Chevlyn to go in with her. She couldn't face Shane alone. Because if she were alone with him, even in a crowded place, she had a feeling the connection would be there. You know. The connection to sex. The one they felt on the dance floor last night.

But she needed to do this on her own. She understood that. She had to man up to her mistakes. She couldn't let other people always help her fix her mistakes. She had to be self-sufficient.

So she hugged Chevlyn, asked her to be close in case she needed a quick getaway, then climbed out of her car.

Then she bravely walked into the Starbucks; her head was held high, her mouth set in a grim line. Zoe looked as if she were ready for battle.

She spotted Shane immediately; he was sitting at a tall table near the window, stirring his coffee mindlessly, staring into the swirling blackness.

He registered Zoe's presence almost as quickly as she had. Before she could even take a step near his table, his head shot up and their gazes locked.

And by damn, her breath caught. Her fucking breath caught.

She was in trouble.

***

Shane's mind had said the same thing Zoe's was saying to her a lot the past few minutes he had been waiting. Even before he got the phone call of death.

They both started speaking at once as Zoe walked up to the table.

"Eric called me-" Zoe started.

"He knows-" Shane started.

Zoe: "He was so upset-"

Shane: "I felt so bad-"

Zoe: "I mean, I love him-"

Shane: "The dude's like my fucking brother, and I thank him like-"

Zoe and Shane stopped speaking, then, and Shane felt like someone had poured acid down his throat when he saw Zoe's eyes start to fill up with tears.

"Oh shit, Zo," Shane breathed. "Don't cry. Please don't cry."

Zoe sniffled. "I can't help it," she replied, her voice water. "I feel like scum."

And right then, Shane had felt even worse then he had when Eric had called him.

Look at what he was causing her to do.

He had made her cry. Shane tried to rationalize that it wasn't him, it was her feelings of guilt.

But images from last night assaulted him. Him taking off her clothes. Him kissing her lips for hours. Him kissing his way down her whole body all night long.

And he wanted to cry, too. He would never get to do that again.

Because when she started to cry, it had sealed the deal.

Shane would take the blame that was maybe not rightfully his. But he would accept it; he thought he could take whatever Eric threw at him (be it physical or verbal attacks, or a combination of the two) .

But he would do anything to get Zoe to stop crying.

"Zoe," Shane whispered, looking down, not able to look at her tears. "I'll say it was my fault."