Love is Cruel

Chapter 12

The weekend we spent together was absolutely fantastic. We probably had sex on about every surface of the cabin and I spent the better half of Sunday afternoon cleaning up the whole house. I would have felt guilty leaving it in the state it was in and blushed furiously every time I wiped a table or sideboard remembering the wicked things Zayn had done to my body.

God, that man could fuck!

I wasn't complaining.

Once again I was sore in all the right places and on our ride home I couldn't keep the grin off of my face.

He dropped me off in front of my building and gave me a sweet kiss goodbye.

In my flat I simply flopped down onto my bed, closed my eyes and sighed.

It wasn't only the physical part that was amazing with him. If he would not be keeping so many things from me Zayn would actually be the best boyfriend anyone could wish for.

My heart skipped a beat just thinking that word.

Boyfriend.

I had no idea if Zayn was my boyfriend. He certainly treated me like a boyfriend if you ignored the mystery around him. He was attentive, loving, woke me up with breakfast in bed, cooked amazing food, kissed my forehead, and held my hand.

But on the other hand, any displays of affection he mostly did in private. I was thinking about the few times that we went anywhere together that was not either one of our apartments:

The club all those weeks ago where he had made out with me on the dance floor. It had been so dark that it was almost impossible to recognize anyone.

The one restaurant he really seemed to like because we had never been in any other. It was also really dark inside.

The coffee shop where we met, but where he had always been sitting in a corner by himself and I had only seen him that first day, because I had been looking around so nervously. I wondered if I might have never met him, would I not have been so damn nervous on my first day at my new job.

The picnic had been in the countryside, away from prying eyes, just as the cabin.

I was starting to see a pattern. Why would Zayn do this? Was he ashamed of being seen with me?

I gasped quietly.

That must be it. I was good enough to fuck, but not to be seen with him.

But then I remembered that he had also come to my office where he had clearly shown interest in me and everyone there could see it. He had been to the office twice.

Once, right before we had hooked up for the first time.

The second time when he had come back after his long absence and desperately wanted to talk to me.

I didn't know what to make of it and it got me more and more confused the longer I thought about it.

I went to bed with a headache and after a restless night woke up in the morning more exhausted than I should have been after the nice weekend I had. For once Zayn did not drive me to work, but he did pick me up and after I got into his car I blurted out what had been on my mind since last night.

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"What?" Zayn asked, head whipping around to look at me, his cheeks slightly paler than they usually were.

"Are you ashamed of me?" I repeated.

"What makes you think that?" he mumbled, moving the car out of the parking spot and looking stoically onto the road.