Eighteen ➵ z.m. [Camp NaNoWriMo November 2015]

<4> Oh, the answer is most definitely a no, but what can I say? I'm curious.

There was no doubt in my mind, that Zayn felt the sexual tension in the air just as I had. Throughout the painful dinner with our parents, we had shared many secretive glances and flirtatious grins.

Now that Zayn had pulled me to the side for what I thought was going to be a make out session, we were in the clear, but it appears that business was really on his mind.

The very thought made me cringe, as I had left this business months ago without the intention of ever making a come back.

I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, when Zayn was concerned, but I didn't want to string him along either by giving him false hope. It just wasn't my style.

Being upfront and blunt with my feelings, however was right up my alley so the second Zayn and I were alone I took advantage of the fact and blurted out exactly where my head was at.

"I'm not interested in coming back to work for my father- or yours for that matter," I announce. It would only make sense that Zayn was trying to recruit me to work for his father.

Since he was leaving someone would need to stand up and take on his role. Who more qualified then another business man's daughter?

"Is that honestly what you think I wanted to talk about Everly?" Zayn asks.

I shrug in response. There was nothing else that I could think of for Zayn to share with me. I was still somewhat disappointed that I wasn't being pinned against the bathroom wall right now with Zayn kissing down my neck and whispering dirty promises into my ear.

"Honestly it doesn't matter, what you want. The answer is no," I point out.

What I have done was in the past, and I was now free to do whatever my heart desired. Now that I had this newfound freedom I didn't want whatever Zayn wanted to tell me, to fuck with it all.

No, I had risked everything- including my life- to make it to this point. I couldn't backtrack now; I've come too far.

"Your father told me you would say that," Zayn confesses.

To this I perked up, applying this newfound information to facts that I gathered in the past.

Zayn speaking to my father, and my father agreeing to whatever he wanted from me was a huge thing. Whatever Zayn wanted was big- my father wouldn't have given his permission otherwise.

"Well he's known me for seventeen, almost eighteen years."

To this Zayn smirks, his eyes lighting up as he does so. "Good point."

At Zayn's words I have to put in the extra effort to make sure that I'd roll my eyes on his account. Just because you've known somebody for their entire life doesn't mean they know you. Sure they may pick up on random quirks and odd habits, but truly knowing someone was going behind their exterior.

My father certainly didn't know me, but he liked to pretend he did. I could think of two people right off the bat that knew me better than my father did, and both he hated with a burning passion that would even make Satan piss himself.

"Zayn, please spare us both the time and just bluntly tell me what you want from me," I suggest.

Doing the whole subtle approach would take entirely too long. Having drinks and making conversation took about an hour or so, and I still wasn't sure what Zayn wanted. It was time to kick things up into high gear.

"I thought the answer was already a no," Zayn reminds me, his eyebrow arching upwards.

A smile stretches across my lips as I nod in agreement. "Oh, the answer is most definitely a no, but what can I say? I'm curious."