Zoya’s POV
I found myself transported out of my own body, as if my mind was unable to fully comprehend the electric current flowing through my veins. It was as if I was on overdrive, while her hand firmly pressed against the back of my neck. Her lips were unyielding, not for a moment slowing down in their relentless pursuit. I couldn’t even process the idea of us kissing but she took charge, exuding confidence and a demanding presence.
In a daze, I surrendered to her lead as she explored my lips. Her tongue never left her mouth, as if she savored every sensation my lips offered without disclosing her entire desire. But deep down, I wanted her to go further, to embrace the passion that she caused to simmer in me. If this fleeting moment was to be the first and last taste of her, I was willing to dismantle the barriers that had guarded my heart and bear any pain that might follow.
Just as I dared to part my lips, silently urging her on, she suddenly stopped. Her lips left mine, and my heart ached with the possibility that this might be the end. She rested her forehead against mine, and a sense of desperation overcame me. I shook my head, a silent protest escaping my lips. Deep down, I knew that whatever was to come next, I wouldn’t be happy with.
“Oli, please, no,” I choked out, my hand instinctively reaching out and gripping her shirt, desperately trying to pull her closer.
“Zoya,” she whispered, her hand leaving the back of my neck and gently caressing my cheek with the back of her hand.
“Don’t, please,” I pleaded, squeezing my eyes shut as if hoping to block out any words that would confirm this as a mistake.
“What are we doing?” she breathed out, her lips pressing against the corner of mine.
I couldn’t respond, unsure of what exactly we were doing and not wanting to overthink it. All I knew was that I wanted her lips back on mine, and I didn’t want to return to the life that awaited us outside.
“My husband is waiting for me inside, Zoya,” she said with a deep sigh, attempting to pull away, but I kept my hand tightly gripped to her shirt.
“Oli,” I pleaded, my words filled with uncertainty as I wasn’t entirely sure what I was asking her to do. Deep down, I knew she was right.
“I’ve never felt this way kissing someone before,” she sighed, cupping my cheek and running her thumb over my lips.
“Kiss me again,” I found myself saying, fully aware that I had no right to ask.
She seemed on the verge of saying something but instead leaned in and briefly pressed her lips back against mine.
“Did I ever tell you that your eyes resemble a forest on fire?” she chuckled, lightening the mood.
“Do they?” I giggled, momentarily distracted but soon realizing that tears were streaming down my face.
“Your lipstick is smudged,” I whispered, touching the corner of her lip.
“Great, now that’s not suspicious at all,” she shook her head, and I gently attempted to fix it for her.
“What do we do now?” she asked, a hint of concern lacing her voice.
“I don’t think we can discuss this here or now,” I replied, letting go of her shirt and sitting back upright, realizing that I shouldn’t expect another kiss from her.
“Fuck, Zoya,” she sighed, frustration evident as she rested her head in her hands.
“Oli, just please promise me you won’t freak out and disappear on me. That would shatter me. I’m not expecting anything from you, but please don’t be an asshole about it. At least grant me that,” I pleaded, my voice cracking as I fought back tears.
“Can I give you a hug?” she asked, biting her lower lip.
“I don’t think I could let you go if you did. It took every ounce of strength in me to move away just now,” I confessed, regret already creeping in for turning her down.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said, sounding unsure of her own words.
“Figure out what?” I asked, a glimmer of hope beginning to shine in my heart.
“We’ll figure out how to move past this,” she reassured me, as if those were the words I desperately wanted to hear.
“Sure,” I managed to force a smile, and she nodded quickly in response, seeking to reassure herself as well.
“I’ll go first,” I said, unlocking the door and leaving without waiting for her to reply. I couldn’t just go home; I had a feeling I looked like a mess. So, I decided to head to the bathroom, taking a moment to collect myself.
Olivia’s POV
I returned to our table, stealing glances at my reflection on my phone every few seconds. Self-consciousness washed over me, fearing that Elijah would soon notice something. Taking a seat beside Ezra, I deliberately avoided making eye contact with anyone in the group. Thankfully, their lively conversation offered a distraction, and I couldn’t spot the girl Zoya had been with anywhere nearby.
“Where are Zoya and that girl?” I inquired, still hesitant to meet Ezra’s gaze.
Ezra shrugged. “Not entirely sure. Zoya was taking her time in the bathroom, so Cadence went to see what was happening.”
A surge of anger coursed through me. What were they doing in there?
Without a second thought, I abruptly stood up from my seat. “I’ll be right back,” I announced, disregarding any possible assumptions others might make about my hurried leaving.
Upon pushing open the bathroom door, I half-expected to find it locked again. To my surprise, it swung open easily. Inside, Cadence had her arm wrapped comfortingly around Zoya, whose tear-streaked face made my heart clinch with pain but it didn’t stop my anger from flaring. How dare this girl act as if she can comfort Zoya? It should be me.
Uncertain whether my anger stemmed from Zoya receiving comfort or from the knowledge that I had caused her tears and pushed her into someone else’s arm.
“Leave” I said firmly, my gaze fixed ahead, deliberately ignoring the other girl. Zoya’s head snapped towards me, clearly startled by my sudden appearance and stern tone.
“What’s going on?” the girl asked, confusion evident in her voice. I chose not to repeat myself, instead reaching out to grab Zoya’s arm firmly. Pulling her close to my side, I shot the other girl an intense glare, unable to conceal my emotions.
“I didn’t make her cry. I found her like this,” the girl attempted to defend herself, her voice tinged with apprehension.
“Just give us a moment alone, please,” I implored, attempting to sound as polite as possible, although my irritation seeped through my voice.
She switched her gaze from me to Zoya, but Zoya kept her gaze on the floor. Feeling the tension in my grip on her forearm, I immediately loosened it, regret flooding over me. The girl finally understood and, with an apologetic look, she quietly left the room. As the door closed behind her, I let out a deep sigh, realizing my anger had gotten the best of me.
Turning my attention back to Zoya, I gently tilted her chin upward, desperate to make her look at me. Her tear-stained face broke my heart, urging me to wipe away her tears that continued to flow.
“Why are you crying, my beautiful?” I whispered, catching myself by surprise with the endearing term. She let out a loud sob, burying her face in my chest and clinging to my shirt.
Cradling her fragile body in my arms, I felt a strong urge to protect her from the pain I had caused. “Please don’t cry, I’m so sorry,” I murmured softly, my hand soothingly caressing her head in an attempt to offer her solace.
“What are you apologizing for?” she managed to utter amidst her sobs, struggling to form a coherent sentence.
“For kissing you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I worried about the possibility of someone overhearing us.
“That’s not why I’m crying,” she responded, shaking her head ever so slightly.
“Then why are you?” I couldn’t help but feel stupid for asking, deep down knowing the reason behind her tears. I was attempting to distance myself and avoid taking responsibility for her pain.
Silence enveloped us, the weight of understanding heavy in the air. She knew that I knew the reason, and she believed that my feelings didn’t align with hers. But the truth was, I felt just as shattered as she did. The inexplicable connection we shared was undeniable, even if I didn’t fully understand it or how it came to be.
Continuing to stroke her back with one hand, I held her tightly with my other arm, momentarily forgetting that we were in the bathroom of a bustling club, vulnerable to anyone who might walk in.
“Do you want me to take you home?” I asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
“I’m not riding with you and your husband, Olivia,” her voice dripped with pain.
“I didn’t say anything about Elijah,” I sighed deeply, realizing her frustration. “I simply asked if you wanted me to take you home.”
As I looked into her eyes, the difference in height causing her head to tilt back, I couldn’t help but notice the glistening tears that enhanced the beauty of her already mesmerizing gaze. She appeared so fragile in my arms, and though every part of me yearned to lean down and kiss away her pain, I resisted that overwhelming urge.
“I’ll go and let them know that you’re not feeling well,” I whispered gently, delicately tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Meet me in front of my car in a few minutes.” I inquired if she would be alright, and she nodded in response. Unable to resist, I instinctively held her face in my hands, exhaling a deep sigh. What was happening to me? She had an inexplicable hold on my emotions.
I broke away from Zoya’s embrace and returned to where Elijah was. Upon entering the room, I noticed a palpable silence as everyone’s eyes shifted between Cadence and me. It became apparent that she must have already informed them about what had just happened.
“Zoya has a personal emergency, I will drive her home,” I informed Elijah, his expression tinged with confusion.
“Why would you drive her home? We arrived here together. Cadence can take care of her,” Elijah questioned, his inquiry valid and leaving me momentarily speechless.
Sebastian interjected, offering a solution, “Perhaps it would be better if Olivia drove her home instead. Zoya might feel more comfortable opening up to someone other than me or Cadence. Olivia, being older and experienced, could possibly help her find a solution for her problem.” His knowing look made me wonder how much he truly knew about the complexity of Zoya’s feelings towards me. While he may not have been aware of the events that had just unfolded, I was grateful for his assistance.
“She has already shared some of her feelings, but I believe it would be better to have a conversation in a more private setting like the car,” I nodded in agreement with Sebastian’s suggestion. Elijah, though not entirely pleased, understood the need for discretion and privacy.
I made my way outside the club, my face consistently bombarded by the flashing lights of cameras. The timing couldn’t have been worse, with Zoya waiting for me by the car. Nevertheless, I had no other option; I had promised to meet her.
Navigating through the crowded chaos, I walked with urgency towards Zoya, who was leaning against my car. I quickly unlocked it from a distance, hoping that she would understand my intentions and swiftly hop inside before the prying eyes could catch her in tears. Unfortunately, she seemed too preoccupied and unfamiliar with such situations to notice my subtle hint. She remained fixated on her own feet, lost in thought.
As I reached her side, I opened the car door and spoke in a gentle tone to avoid startling her, “Quick, get in.” However, before she could react, the sudden flash of a camera caused her to jump in surprise and fixate on the few reporters who were now uncomfortably close for my liking.
Without wasting any more time, she got into the car, and I rushed to the driver’s side as a torrent of questions rained down upon me. They wanted to know why I was leaving without Elijah and if Zoya’s tears were a result of Ezra’s strict management rules.
***
“Trouble in Paradise? Olivia Lopez Spotted Leaving Club with Tearful Co-Star Zoya Eldeeb: Is Ezra Gael’s Strict Treatment to Blame or is there more to it?”
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