Page 72 of You Make Me Feel
I look grotesque.
Running the cold water, I splash it over my face, but I still can’t focus for shit. The truth is, my eyesight is only ever going to get worse. Maybe this is the reminder I needed. Before I fall for her. Too hard and too fast.
Before she falls for me back.
And I hate that I can’t let that happen.
Opening the bathroom door, I look out. I can make out her body, still asleep. She’s so beautiful, even when I can’t focus on her.
She deserves more than a man who can’t even accept who he is. Who doesn’t know what his future holds.
I close my eyes and picture her again. Running through the woods, so damn beautiful and brave. My chest tightens.
She’s the first thing I’ve wanted in years that feels pure and real.
And the one thing I can’t have.
SADIE
The sound of knuckles on the apartment door almost makes me jump out of bed. It takes me a moment to realize where I am. The sheets smell of Zach, but he’s not in bed with me. Not in the bathroom either, because the door is open and it’s empty.
“Housekeeping,” a voice calls out. “Miss Delaney? May I come in?”
Oh, she knows I’m here. My brows scrunch as I take inthe t-shirt I’m wearing. His. Oversized, the hem brushing the tops of my knees. It’s soft and overwashed, the gray fabric gentle against my skin.
“Uh, sure,” I manage, getting out of bed and pulling the hem down as far as it’ll go. My voice sounds stupidly rough, like I developed a smoking habit overnight.
I walk into the main living area and the front door opens a few inches. A neatly dressed woman steps inside, her expression polite but unreadable. She’s holding a tray. Coffee and pastries, plus a glass of water and a pack of ibuprofen.
“Good morning, Miss Delaney. Mr. Fitzgerald asked me to make sure you were awake in time for work,” she says with warmth in her voice. “He had to leave for meetings, but he wanted me to tell you the hotel car is available to take you home if you don’t feel up to driving.”
It takes me a moment to process her words. Zach’s gone? I frown, because he never said he had to leave early this morning. Didn’t he say he’d drive me home? God, I hate that I feel disappointed.
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to sound as self-conscious as I feel. My hair’s tangled, my skin marked, my voice still husky. There’s no hiding the state I’m in, and we both know it.
She sets the tray on the kitchen table, adjusts the cup’s handle toward me, and offers a professional smile. “If you need anything, dial zero.”
When the door clicks shut, I’m left with the smell of coffee and silence. The space he filled last night feels too big without him in it.
Then I see a folded note on the table. His handwriting is as neat and sharp as he is.
Sorry, I had to leave for the mainland for a meeting. Try to rest. Zach.
I run my thumb over the paper, my chest tightening, because I’m making too much of this, I know that. This was only ever going to be one night. He planned everything, took care of me, damn he’s even taking care of me now, from a distance.
I need to get over myself. Yes, he’s absolutely gorgeous. And beneath the polished exterior, I know he’s kind too.
And now we need to go back to being friends. I just need to figure out how to do that.
I lift the coffee cup to my lips and take a sip, groaning because it tastes so good. Possibly better than Mylene’s, not that I’d ever tell her that.
Or maybe coffee always tastes this good the morning after you’ve had two orgasms, a hunt through the woods, and a man with a scowl who takes care of you until you’re almost boneless.
Either way, I drink it fast, followed by the pastries and the pills. And then I take another shower in his gorgeously outfitted bathroom.
The water helps. It washes away the soreness, the remaining dirt, and the stupid sting of disappointment that I refuse to name. By the time I’m done, my skin is pink, glowing, and smelling of his shower gel.
When I reach for a towel, something catches my eye on the marble counter. A neat stack of clothes – black yoga pants, a soft gray t-shirt, a zip-up hoodie, fresh underwear, and socks, even a pair of white sneakers. And of course they’re all in my size.
