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Sophie had been coming here on occasion since Chelsea’s death to feel closer to her late friend. She and Chelsea had keys to each other’s places because they often shared clothes. Not to mention the fact Chelsea had locked herself out multiple times. On the third time, she’d gotten Sophie a key since Sophie lived closer than Chelsea’s brothers.
Today was the first day Sophie opted to start collecting minute items that represented the final thread linking their friendship. She’d make sure Braxton and Liam were okay with the items she wanted to take. If Zach wanted to weigh in, that was fine too, but she wasn’t seeking him out for permission.
Refusing to dive back into a Zach memory, Sophie turned back to the closet. There were shoes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, but it was the stack of black binders nestled in the corner that caught her attention.
A part of Sophie felt like an intruder going through all of Chelsea’s things. The other part knew Chelsea wouldn’t mind one bit. The woman had been so carefree, letting nothing in life really disturb her. Besides, the two were as close as sisters and shared everything. Chelsea would want Sophie to have some things to remember her by.
Shifting the assortment of sneakers, boots, and flip-flops aside, Sophie pulled the binders from the closet. She’d just walked into the main room and set the thick folders on the dining table when keys jingled against the apartment door.
Startled, she cautiously moved toward the couch, where she’d put her purse, which contained pepper spray. Her eyes remained fixed on the knob, which she’d locked, but now it jiggled as an unknown tried to get in.
Did someone know this apartment sat empty and was coming to steal? More than likely she’d just watched too many criminal shows and it was just the landlord or maintenance . . . she had heard keys clanging, after all.
The door opened and the second Sophie saw a thick forearm leading to a wide shoulder, she dove for her purse. Unfortunately, she tripped when her hip gave out on her, and she fell to the floor behind the couch.
“What the hell?”
The familiar male voice only added to her humiliation. The man who let himself in wasn’t the landlord, the maintenance man, or even a would-be burglar. Sophie would’ve rather faced any of those than the man who rounded the sofa and now stared down at her as she struggled to her feet.
“Sophie.” He looked worried as his brows drew in. As he crouched down to her, his eyes raked over her body. “Let me help you.”
Pushing off the plush carpet, Sophie refused to meet his eyes or even think of the concern she’d seen flash through them. “I’m fine.”
“You fell.”
“I tripped.” Coming to her feet, she placed a hand on the back of the couch until she was steady. The familiar twinge in her hip had escalated to full-on piercing pain, and she needed to remain still until it subsided. “What are you doing here?”
The muscle in his jaw clenched as he came to his full height, towering over her and making her feel so small. He fisted his hands on his narrow hips and said nothing. The way he just stared at her did absolutely nothing to lessen her humiliation. Falling was one thing, but doing so because of an injury that continued to hinder her life at the most inopportune times was degrading.
Knowing Zach had never forgiven himself for her handicap still sent an ache through her that she feared would never go away. Sophie actually hurt for him.
“Zach?”
Dark eyes darted to hers, to her legs, then back up. “You didn’t hurt yourself when you tripped, did you?”
“Um . . . no.” She’d never admit her pain, especially to him. “I trip all the time.”
The muscle ticked even more. “Because of . . .” He trailed off, but pointed to her leg as if he couldn’t even say the word “limp.”
As embarrassing as this was to make him uncomfortable because of her injury, she shook her head. “No. I just didn’t know who was coming in and I was trying to get to the pepper spray in my purse.”
A portion of the truth—that was all he was getting from her.
Zach rubbed his hand across his bearded jaw, and the bristling sound sent shivers through her. She didn’t want shivers, had no room in her life for shivers. At
least not from this man.
Still, that sound couldn’t help but conjure up thoughts as to how the coarse hair would feel against her skin. Unfortunately, she’d never know.
She had to admit Zach Monroe’s wide shoulders, scruffy jawline, and menacing, icy eyes were quite mesmerizing. Still, she wasn’t looking for a man; she already had one.
Besides, she couldn’t fully get over the way Zach had treated her over the past decade. Being dismissed, ignored, or barely given the time of day was damn hurtful, even if he was using it as a defense mechanism.
Still, her body responded to the man each and every time he was near . . . each response stronger than the last. Ignoring that invisible pull was the only option. She had a man in her life, a man she was supposed to meet for dinner very soon.
Sophie was only feeling this thread of attraction for Zach for the same reasons she had as a teen: Zach Monroe was reckless, mysterious in his quiet ways, and sexy as hell. Not boyfriend or relationship material for any woman in her right mind who didn’t want to have her heart broken.
But the way he’d looked at her, had instantly gone on alert at the sight of her on the floor. Degrading as the moment was, that was the first honest, raw emotion she’d seen from the man in years.
