Page 94 of You Make Me Feel
“Mm-hmm.” She leans against the office doorframe, arms folded, her expression soft. “Well the offer is still there.”
“Thank you,” I say softly, because it feels good to have friends. People who want to take care of me. But I’m still getting used to it.
Before she can say any more, the low rumble of a car engine drifts up the street, cutting through the quiet evening air. My heart starts to pound even before I see who’s driving it.
Romy turns her head as Zach’s black sports car pulls up along the curb. She watches him for a beat, then turns to look at me, a big grin on her face. “Well, I’d pick a six-foot-two human brick wall too, I guess,” she murmurs, as he climbs out, and every coherent thought slips quietly out the back door of my brain.
He’s dressed casually, in a black henley that clings to his chest and shoulders like it was made specially for him, with dark jeans that sit low on his hips, and boots that hit the ground with slow, heavy confidence.
His hair’s slightly mussed as though he’s been running his fingers through it since he dropped me off this morning. His jaw is rough with stubble, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair, and he’s squintinginto the late sun, scanning the street until his eyes land on me.
And stay there.
My pulse kicks up, as I remember last night. How I felt when he was inside of me. Like this thing between us is real.
Like he didn’t want to let me go.
Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but my body heats up like it belongs to him anyway.
He pushes at the door and it doesn’t give. Romy runs to unlock it, twirling to the side to let him in.
“Well hello handsome,” she says, batting her super-long eyelashes at him. “I’ve taken good care of her all day.”
He lifts a brow. “I know. You’ve messaged every hour.”
She touches the tip of her brow like they’re in a military operation together. “Just wanted you to know all was well,” she tells him.
He nods, his eyes softening. “And I appreciate it. Thanks for taking care of her.”
“Iamhere, you know?” I point out, folding my arms.
“Yes you are,” he says, his gaze trailing over my face like he’s checking for bruises, or cracks, or some other spurious reason to pull me into his embrace and never let go. “You look tired,” he adds, stepping closer. “Have you eaten anything today?”
He was annoyed this morning when I refused a cooked breakfast from the kitchen and only wanted coffee. But seriously, who can eat that much first thing? Especially when he’s walking around half naked and stupidly hot?
Romy snorts. “She refused the tuna sandwich I offered her for lunch. Said it smelled like cat food.”
“But I did eat lunch, just not yours,” I point out, patiently, because I love this woman, but she’s acting likemy personal bodyguard. And I don’t need Zach worrying about my eating again.
A smile pulls at his lips. “We’ll grab something to eat when we get back to the hotel.”
I look over at Romy. “Thank you for today,” I say, because I want her to leave now. She’s already late leaving and I know she has homework to do.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow at seven for the handover,” she tells Zach, like I’m the center of a child custody arrangement.
“Of course,” he says.
“And take care of her,” she tells him, shooting me an amused look that says she knows exactly how he will do that.
His smile widens. “I wouldn’t dare do anything else.”
She squeezes my hand as she walks out, and I close the door behind her. For a moment, I watch her through the glass as she walks down the street, her phone already at her ear.
I turn back to him, the lock clicking under my fingers.
He’s still standing in the same place, his eyes slightly unfocused, like he’s trying to decide if I’m okay.
“This is stupid,” I tell him. “I’m fine.” Because much like Romy, he’s been messaging me every hour too. Plus three phone calls to make sure I’m not losing it again. “I’m not sure I’ve gone ten minutes all day without a member of your family checking in with me.”
