Page 23 of Safe Place

She hesitates, then looks at me with a small smile. It’s soft, but real. And for some reason, it makes me feel some kind of warmth.

She nods. “Okay.”

Back at The Haven, I pull into the garage, and we take the penthouse elevator up. When the doors open, she steps in and stops cold. Her sparkly brown eyes go wide. “Whoa.”

Gesturing to the living room I can’t help but smile. “Make yourself at home.”

She turns in place slowly, taking it all in—the high ceilings, city views, clean lines and open space. “This is your place?” she breathes. “I can’t make myself at home. This cannot be any more different than my home.”

I chuckle. “Nah, it’s nothing special.”

She looks at me, still stunned. “This must cost a fortune. How did you even land the penthouse?”

I shrug. “Just got lucky, I guess.”

She gives me a look like she’s trying to figure me out, then lets it go. Still doesn’t realize the connection. Doesn’t know this building is mine. I’m curious to see how long it takes her, so I don’t tell her yet.

And then she flashes a genuine smile.

EIGHT

I’m relieved, but he can’t know that

MICAH

Davis buzzes to let me know the food’s arrived. “Want me to bring it up, Mr. Vale?” he asks over the phone.

I glance at the time. He’s been on shift all day. “Nah, I’ve got it. Take a break, Davis.”

I look over at Sophie on the sofa, bent over a small notebook she pulled from the front pocket of her bag earlier, her pen moving quietly across the page.

“Hey, Soph,” I say. “I’m gonna go grab the food. I’ll be right back.”

She looks up, offering a soft, gentle smile. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got it.” I grin. “Just stay comfortable.” I toss her a wink, and she rolls her eyes.

Down in the lobby, Davis is sorting through a mountain of delivery bags. He looks up. “All of this is yours?”

“She said anything was fine,” I mutter, gathering it all in one ridiculous, overloaded trip. “Davis, did you eat?”

“Yes, I did, sir.” He answers, but I don’t believe it.

I take out two burgers and fries and put them on his desk. “Make sure to take care of yourself.”

He just smiles and nods. I love Davis. He respects my peace, doesn’t ask questions, and always maintains my boundaries.

By the time I step back into my apartment, the place is quiet. I set the bags on the kitchen island and turn—and there she is.

Sophie’s asleep on the sofa, curled on her side, one arm tucked under her cheek, the other clinging to a throw pillow and that notebook she was writing in. I’m tempted to take a look at what she’d been writing, but decide not to cross any lines with her. Her chest rises in slow, even breaths. She looks peaceful. It’s a look I’ve never seen on her before. Usually, she’s alert and tense. But right now, it’s like her body finally gave in to rest.

Something else catches my eye—something I’ve noticed before. The right sleeve of her shirt is pushed up to her elbow, but the left one always stays pulled all the way down. Even when she fidgets or adjusts it, it never rolls up.

I should wake her. The food’s here and I know she’s been hungry. But I can’t bring myself to do it. She looks like she needs this rest. Instead, I grab a throw blanket from the armrest and carefully drape it over her. It’s gotten chilly, and she’s curled up tight like she’s cold. For a second, I consider carrying her to the bed so she can sleep better, but knowing her, she’d probably freak out and get all jumpy if she woke up somewhere unfamiliar.

Just as I settle onto one of the kitchen stools, I hear the elevator. I don’t need to check—I already know who it is.

Grant walks in first, loud as always, with Wyatt right behind him. They both stop short when they spot Sophie asleep on my couch. Grant starts silently mouthing, what the fuck, his whole face lighting up. He starts hopping like an idiot.