Zeus slumped on the couch, out cold. I took his jacket from her. The scent of her perfume clung to it—something citrusy and young. Not mine.
“Appreciate it, Zoraya,” I said, keeping my voice level. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home.”
She protested, all sweet and naive. “Oh, no, really—I can call a cab—”
“Not happening,” I cut in. “A girl like you, this late in the city? I’m not letting you ride alone.”
In the car, she glanced over at me, fiddling with her phone. “So… you and Zeus—when’s the big wedding?”
I paused, remembering that call from earlier. “Maybe a year or two,” I said, forcing a smile. “Once things settle down at the business.”
…Or once I figure out if I’ll even live that long.
“Got it,” she said softly, turning to stare out the window. She didn’t say much after that.
When I dropped her off, she waved awkwardly and thanked me again. I gave her a tight smile and watched until she was inside.
I sat there for a moment, engine humming. I told myself I’d run into the pharmacy—grab some hangover meds for Zeus, maybe ginger ale if I was feeling generous.