Dear Z,

You want to know who I'm? That's a tough one because you don't need to know that.

It's not important.

Right now, you are the center.

The ultimate important thing in the world. You are the beginning and the ending...

• • •

See? This is the fucking problem with Z and I! We can't be left alone in any location, let alone my car. This inexplicable tension with him is just too unnerving and the root for it is unknown.

The electric buzz rose between us. I saw his chest move slightly faster than normal. His neck cords were tight and strung. That jaw rigid as the water droplets just slipped right off them like granite.

My core drummed harder and it instantly reminded me of a moment we had two years ago. It was raining, just like this. Beating down hard and we were in a car. All four of us. Adrianna and me. Archer and Z.

All of us wet from standing in the bleachers during the game of our little cousins which got cancelled due to the weather. We ran back faster than ever, laughing at how God saved us from seeing our roly-poly cousin babies playing and rolling around, hitting just air and missing balls in their little league game.

As we sat inside the Adrianna's red Volkswagen Beetle Cabriolet, wet butts freezing off, soaking the four leather seats, I didn't realize Z was with me in the backseat.

The heater was slow and I shook so hard, my teeth clashed like rolling boulders. And as I glanced at my side, there he was, calm and centered. The black polo he wore sticking to his mighty chest and abs and spiky hair with drools of rain spilling down seeping inside his collar. His hands fisted on his knees. He was too rigid and his head faced the other way.

While the two of them in front were giggling and whispering, we stayed like that in backseat. Two icicles with just a shudder of movement from my side. He wasn't even shaking!

With an inch of space between us, his knee so close to my bare one. I wore a horrible mistake of a jeans skirt with thigh high boots and a long black jumper. It was a terrible choice but when I thought back on that day, I remembered his eyes zeroing on my legs.

He had this stare. It was a look that said 'clothes were unnecessary'.

And then like a lighting bolt, he shut himself down and didn't look my way till we reached his house. And he left without a word.

Now, those memories made me open my eyes wider as I took him in. Paying attention to details I was afraid to circumspect.

His jeans sagged wet under my thighs. I felt the cold stream into my skin. I didn't need to look down to check how goosebumps formed upon them. Those brownish eyes bored dead into mine, searching for something. It colored me red. What are you searching for, Z?

"Get off me, Rose."

That clipped tone made realize what I was actually doing. Everything tilted back to reality. It shrouded over me like bad tattoo on my forehead. God, how embarrassing! It was humiliating and he wanted me to feel it so he can bask upon it. Yet I couldn't show it on my face so I stayed put, resting back against the steering wheel carefully so I don't nudge the honk button.

When he saw I wasn't getting down, his eyes narrowed to a high degree. If look could kill, I would have been ashes by now. And stupidly, that thrilled me.

"Am I making you uncomfortable? Because then you really must know how I felt with you sitting in my car and ordering me about." I said, folding my arms over my chest, very conscious of the fact that my nipples were prickling through my top. Did he notice them too?

What the fuck am I thinking? I mentally slap myself hard in the face.

"I was just helping you! You can't drive in this weather." He reached up, running his fingers through his hair. His bicep flexing with the movement.

I flexed my jaw, controlling the feelings eroding my body. Instead, I concentrated hard on his words. It was true and I know the risk it takes driving through rain but that would only mean I wanted his help but I didn't. Rose doesn't need help from anyone.

"I have done this before so I don't need you telling me what to do." I grit my teeth, administering my anger so it doesn't get the best of me.

"Fine! Don't need it. See if I care." He took hold of my waist, and with no effort lifted me up and plopped me into the seat on the side. Then, he clicked the car door open and left, slamming it back.

I bit my lip, gulping. My chest tightens as I watch his broad back run towards the house through the rear view mirror.

I have always wondered these feelings I felt towards him. It wasn't something I could put a label on. It's probably cause I refuse to put a label on them. I shouldn't even feel the lace of hurt that passes through me as I watched him flinch away yet somehow I do. Why the fuck is that?

I have had the good hate-to-love relationships with many men in the past. It's how I was wired but this wasn't anything like that. This was....nope, not going to label this.

"Good riddance." I mumble as I fell back into the driver seat and resumed my car on and drove till I reached the studio. It was an old warehouse when I brought it and now it stood, changed into the glamorous art studio with its glass doors and windows. It glinted and sparkled in the rain.

Then my smile turned down when I remembered what just occurred in my car.

I wanted to squeal out in embarrassment. I dropped my head down on the steering wheel and banged it. Many times. What was I thinking? Why did I climb on his lap? And why did I feel suddenly weird when he raked my body with those eyes? No! Not thinking about this.

I'm like a zombie as I shuffle inside, keys unlocking and locking the door. I move to the upper deck through the hard wooden staircase where my bedroom lay. It was in the loft of this studio. No one knew that I sold my apartment to live up here. It happened recently after I broke up with Ian. I figured to keep my work close to my personal and I didn't want people in my zone. Ever since my parents died, people have been over boarding my personal space a lot. I have boundaries which no matter how close a person can be to me, I won't allow them to cross it.

With high ceiling and large windows, it was airy and uncrowded. Their exposed pipes and beams added a unique style to the loft. Making past my king sized bed, I crash immediately into my steamy sinful shower, getting changed into dry soft pajamas and just as I headed to my desk to work, my phone rang.

Seeing the screen, I push the accept button. "Hey Adrianna. Yes, I have reached."

"Okay that's good. Listen, tomorrow the bunch of us getting together for movie night at my place after mom and dad go over the wedding scheduler during the traditional Sunday brunch for this week. You should come."

"Uh.."

"C'mon Rose! You will not bail out on this. Tomorrow is Sunday! And I know you have no work! We are having family time before this week starts. I'm getting married and after that I won't be seeing you for two whole months. C'mon, pretty please. For the bride..."

"Oh goodness! Alright!"

"Great! Love you. Bye." She hung up and I shook my head. That's Adrianna for you. Needling people till she gets what she wants. It's an acquired trait of hers which is often annoying to me but since it's her wedding week and as she said, it's for the bride.

I smile at how often Adrianna gets what she wants. God help Archer. If it wasn't for Archer, she would have been lost after her ex, Philip did quite a number on her. He was seeing her with two more on the side and not to mention, when he made a pass at me. I had told Adrianna immediately and even though, she was visibly hurt she tried not to show it.

That's the Edris siblings for you. Pushing down their feelings until they collapse.

Ironically, when Adrianna did collapse Archer was around. I knew he secretly had a thing for her but they were too blind sided with their apparent hate for each other. Things quickly developed after Philip and those two have been going strong ever since.

As I sit down at my work station, I think how my best friend grew up with so many hurdles and struggles and she emerged beautiful.

Then, I think about Z. I always wondered what happens to someone when they meet death in the face everyday. How was he coping? Did he have someone to talk to? At that moment, I imagine him with someone.

Stop!

Not my problem. End of the story. I make it a point to promise myself no more conversing with Z. And no more thinking about Z. From now on, I don't know who he is anymore.

Just... just no more Z.