LOGIN“Okay, but nothing to fancy. My parent will get me a new one at the end of the month,” Anna concedes with a soft smile. Zack’s aggressive posture softens slightly at her agreeable tone, though the stubborn set of his jaw remains. “End of the month is too long. What if something happens between now and then?” He paces restlessly around the room like a caged animal. The contrast between his protective nature and her laid-back attitude creates a funny dynamic. &ldqu
“We are not in some shitty motel room,” Zack starts, his voice steady but quiet. “It is not even night. It is late afternoon, maybe, and we are at this place by the coast– the one with the old wooden pier. No crowds, just the sound of the waves hitting the rocks below us.” “I do love the ocean,” Anna commented with a genuine smile. “Go on…” his green eyes soften as he watches her smile, the blue light of the TV catching the genuine warmth in her expression. His hands stay on her hips, but his touch becomes lighter, almost hesitant. “The air is cool, but the sun is still hanging low,” he continued, his voice dropping into a slow, rhythmic cadence. “There is this late café right on the edge of the sand. We are sitting at a table outside, and you are wearing that dress– not this one, a different one, something light that catches the wind.”Zack pauses, his gaze drifting to Anna&rsqu
Zack looks at her for a long time, his dark eyes searching Anna’s as if looking for a catch. A slow, reluctant nod follows. “I promise,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He pulls her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “I am not good at lying, anyway. I would probably fuck it up in a week.” He exhales a long, shaky breath, his body relaxing against hers in a way he rarely allows himself to do. “You are the only person who has ever asked me for something like that,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice thick. “Maybe I like the real you,” she says suggestively and pressed an open mouth kiss to his neck. “Maybe I want you to be happy,” she murmured against his skin.A low rough sound escapes Zack’s throat– half-groan, half-breath– as Anna’s lips press against his neck. His entire body jolts slightly at the sensation, his muscles t
Zack reaches for the bag of chips Anna left behind, popping one into his mouth and settling back into the pillows. The room feels a little colder without her warmth pressed against her side, and he finds himself subconsciously adjusting the blanket to cover the space she just vacated. “Hurry up,” he adds, his tone softening. “The movie is just getting to the good part.” She quickly goes to the bathroom and returns. “This is perfect,” she says as she settles beside him again.Zack does not even look up from the screen as Anna settles back in, but his hand immediately finds her waist again, pulling her flush against his side as if to make up for the lost time. “Took you long enough,” he grumbles, though there is no heat in it. He nudges her with his hip, making room for her to get comfortable. “I was about to start eating your share of the chips.” He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a soda can and popping it op
“Fine. Action movie it is. At least it is not some slow-burn romance where nothing happens for two hours,” Zack grumbles, though he is already leaning his head back to get comfortable. “But if it is terrible, I get to pick the next one.” He pops a chip into his mouth; his green eyes fixed on the screen as the opening credits begin to roll.“Have you ever seen it?” Anna asks casually as she takes another chip. Zack chews slowly, thinking for a second before shaking his head. “Nah, I have seen the first one like once when I was a kid, but the rest? No clue.” He shifts closer to her, his arm settling naturally around her shoulders as he pulls her into his side. The room is quiet except for the sound of the movie and the crunch of chips. “Why, you going to spoil the plot for me?” he asks with a grin, nudging her shoulder with his. He reached for a chocolate bar from the pile on the nightstand, unwrapping it with one hand
“Snacks. Of course,” Zack says, his voice thick with affection. “You are a menace, you know that? We are in the middle of a motel room, you have got no clothes, and all you can think about is chips and candy.” He pulls back just enough to look at Anna, his hands sliding down to rest on her waist. The cool air of the room hits their damp skin, but the heat between them keeps it at bay. “I will get your bag. And I will find your damn vending machine,” he promises, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. “But do not think this gets you out of paying those high rates later. I am picking out the snacks too, so no healthy shit.” She kisses him again. “Thank you,” she sings sweetly. His hands tightened on her waist or a brief moment at her sweetness, before he let out a long, defeated breath.Zack knows he is completely wrapped around Anna’s finger, and he is long past trying to fight it. “Stop doing that,” he
Zack’s hands slide down her arms, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles over her elbows before moving to her collarbone. The soapy water drips from his fingers, catching the dim light of the bathroom. He works with a focused intensity, his touch firm enough to leave a trail of warmth wherever he presses. “You are so quiet,” he notes, his voice a low rumble against her skin as he moves to her shoulders. “Usually, you have got something witty to say back to me.” He does not wait for an answer, instead letting his hands roam lower, his palms smoothing over the curves of her torso beneath the water. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting hers over her shoulder. “Just relax for me. I have got you.”“I am just enjoying the services,” Anna says with a playful smile. Zack’s smirk widened with pride at her response, as he moves his hands down her sides, his fingers pressing lighting into her waist.
Anna walked down the hallway with a pair of grey jeans and a red jersey in her hands. At the end of the hallway was two wooden doors, the one straight ahead had a circular orange sigh mounted near the top center, with a shite silhouette of a standing female figure and beneath it is a black access
“What color was the car?” Anna asked curiously. “I am thinking a chicken burger,” she adds quickly. “With a strawberry milkshake.” Zack’s green eyes scanned the street for the burger place. “Dad’s old car was fire-engine red,” he answere
Zack recalls the conversation he and Anna had in their English class, when he compared her to a car: “Hell yes, Anna. You are the best fucking car I have ever seen. You are built for reliability. Like one of those classic American sedans– solid frame, engine that never gives out.
“Really?” Anna asks softly. “Are you trying to encourage me or discourage me?” Zack’s laugh comes out rougher this time, laced with genuine amusement at her directness. His competitive nature enjoys the verbal sparring match immensely. “Both,” he answers







