CHAPTER 39
**ZION**
Arriving at Clark’s house, the gravel crunches under my tires as I pull into the driveway. The sun is setting, bathing the neighborhood in a golden light. I turn off the engine, sit back in my seat, and drum my fingers restlessly on the steering wheel. I pull out my phone and dial Clark’s number, waiting for him to pick up.
"Come on, Clark. Pick up," I mutter to myself, glancing around the quiet street.
The phone rings twice before Clark's familiar voice answers. "Yo, Zion. You here?"
"I'm outside. Get your ass out here," I reply, my tone full of impatience.
I hang up and let out a frustrated sigh, tapping my foot against the floor mat. My thoughts on Winter won't leave my fucking mind. I laugh bitterly, fists clenched.
Winter was trouble.
The minutes stretch out, the tension building inside me like a coiled spring ready to snap. The golden hue of the setting sun casts long shadows across the driveway, making the wait feel even longer.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, the rhythm a futile attempt to distract myself. Thoughts of Winter keep invading my mind—the way she looked in that towel earlier, pretending to be sweet and innocent while lying through her teeth.
The memory of her curves, the feel of her skin beneath my fingers, is seared into my mind.
"Dammit!" I slam my fist against the steering wheel in frustration.
I need a drink, and I need a willing pussy right now to calm myself. The urge to get to the party, to drown these thoughts in alcohol and lose myself in someone else, is overwhelming.
Finally, the front door swings open with an almost casual ease, and Clark saunters out, looking annoyingly relaxed. He takes his time, his usual carefree grin plastered on his face as he strolls towards the car. The sight of his nonchalance only fuels my frustration.
"About fucking time," I growl as he gets into the passenger seat, my eyes narrowing.
"What took you so long?"
Clark's easygoing demeanor contrasts sharply with the storm brewing inside me.
"Chill out, man," he says, his infuriatingly calm tone grating on my nerves. "Just wanted to put in some extra effort for tonight, not that I need it. I mean, look at me. The girls...."
"Whatever, Clark," I cut him off, not in the mood for his usual arrogance.
"Why are you so wound up? I thought you would've taken out all your frustration on that punching bag at the gym. Stop getting your boxers in a twist and chill, man. We're going to a party, to have fun. Just find a girl and loosen up"
"I'm planning exactly that. A night of drinks and getting laid," I say, turning the key and starting the engine.
Clark laughs, “I’m sure you’ll have no shortage of girls eager to catch your eye—and whatever else you’ve got going on down there.”
I can’t help but smirk. My dick is that good.
“But before you head off to the party, we’ve got a little detour to make,” he adds with a casual grin.
“Detour. What detour?” I demand, my grip on the steering wheel tightening until my knuckles turn white. My irritation is off the charts, and I can’t even pinpoint why I’m so worked up.
I just want to get to the party and unwind.
Clark merely smirks, seemingly amused by my agitation. “Just follow my lead,” he says casually, handing me directions. “Take the next right, then a left at the end of the block. We should be there in no time.”
I follow his instructions, my mind still churning with thoughts of Winter. As the familiar landmarks pass by, my frustration mounts. Finally, we pull up outside my own house.
"What the hell, Clark? My house?” I snap, turning to face him, my patience nearly gone. "Why are we here? If it was booze you needed, you should've told me. I would've brought it with me."
"I’ve come to pick up my date for the party,” he says with a grin, unfastening his seatbelt.
"Date? Who the hell lives in my house that you're dating?" I retort, my confusion morphing into irritation. "Don't tell me you’re messing around with the housekeeper."
Clark just flashes that cryptic smile of his and heads toward the house. I trail behind him, my mind swirling with confusion. As we reach the front door, it swings open, revealing Winter standing there.
My breath hitches in my throat.
She’s wearing a sleek black dress that clings to her figure, accentuating every curve with a provocative elegance. Her golden hair falls in soft waves down her back, shimmering in the porch light. Her blue eyes glisten as they shift between Clark and me.
My eyes trail slowly down her body, hands clenched at my sides. I take in the way the dress outlines her silhouette, then move my eyes to her silky, milky-toned legs, which look even more enticing in the high heels she's wearing. The sight is infuriatingly mesmerizing, stirring a mix of anger and unwanted desire.
My heart skips a beat, and I can’t hide the shock on my face.
“What the fuck is going on?” I mumble, my gaze locked on Winter.
Winter’s gaze locks onto mine, and her tongue flicks out to moisten her lips. My eyes follow the movement, and a surge of desire crashes over me. I can almost taste her.
“Clark, is this some kind of sick joke? Because it’s not fuc*ing funny,” I snap, my frustration barely contained.
Winter’s eyes dart nervously to Clark, her discomfort palpable. Clark, completely unfazed by the tension, turns to her with a grin.
“You look absolutely stunning tonight.” He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles, making her blush.
“Thanks,” she says, her smile warm and genuine.
The way she smiles at him—so effortlessly—hits me hard.
She never smiles at me like that.
What the hell?
“Clark!” I bark, unable to hold back my anger any longer.
Clark glances at me, a smug smile playing on his lips—one I’d love to wipe off with a punch.
“Oh yeah right, your sister is my date for the evening.”
“She’s not my fuc*ing sister, and you know it.”
Clark shrugs nonchalantly.
“Tomato, tomayto. Same difference.”
He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper just for me. “You said I could have at it, so here I am.”
My mind races, struggling to make sense of what’s unfolding before me. My jaw tightens, and anger bubbles just beneath the surface.
“When the fuck did you ask her?” I snap, my voice cutting through the tension. My gaze shifts to Winter, my eyes narrowing as I take in her presence.
“And you,” I point an accusatory finger at her, “You never mentioned anything about this earlier.”
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