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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Laura
Wine, laptop, midnight snack.
Everything I’dever needed for alate-night marathon of editing. It’dbeen one of those rare Sundays with no wedding bookings, and it suited me perfectly since Ihad alot to catch up on. Comfy in my pale yellow tank top and white shorts, Ibrowsed through my playlists and hit play on my collection of The Rolling Stones’ slower songs.
“Moonlight Mile,” “Angie,” and “Wild Horses” played in the background, adding peace to my already blissful mood since Zach kidnapped me to the hotel last Wednesday. That Zen soaked into my pores, absorbed itself into my bones, and nothing in the world could’ve ruined it for me.
In the past four years, resting or even sleeping equaled not working which equaled being asloth. When Iagreed to go with Zach, I’dtaken into consideration the hell that would’ve surely followed—working around the clock and subsequently self-scolding for being so careless.
The universe disagreed with my assumptions, fiercely.
The shot of renewed energy helped me cope with every email, every concern my clients showed, every piece falling into place gracefully. There were no cobwebs on my brain when approaching aproblem, and Ireduced my caffeine intake to two cups aday instead of who knows how many.
As Iedited the lovely couple’sphotos, Imade amental note to call Zach tomorrow and thank him. It’dbeen asacrifice for him as well, and honestly, Ididn’tneed his apology since Iwasn’tmad in the first place, but Iliked that he did it.
What Ididn’tlike was hearing my lock being picked at half past midnight.
While Zach worked insanely the past month, Ileft the latch on top unlocked. In away, it was me calling to him without actually dialing his number. Isent thisYou’re welcome here whenever you decide to show upenergy into the universe in hopes it would reach him.
On the day he entered my home late at night, it felt like awise decision. Out of force of habit, Ihad left it open to someone other than Zach, which seemed like the stupid thing now. Because even though the thief or rapist who was on the other side of the door struggled with picking my lock, they were still there.
Isnuck in silence from the living room to the kitchen, grabbed aknife, and sprang to the door. Ileaned on it and sealed the hatch first. My body trembled when Irose on my tiptoes to look through the peephole, then it froze.
Zach’sshort and thick mass of hair and forehead took up the entire view. He directed his attention to punching the keyhole repeatedly with the key, missing it on every attempt.
The adrenaline surge that coursed through my blood spurred me into action. Something must have been seriously wrong for him to have this loss of control over his actions. Iplaced the knife back on the counter and rushed to unlock the door.
He stumbled into me when Iopened it. Istaggered back with him as he leaned his entire, large body weight on my unprepared one, his head on my chest, my arms enveloping him. “Zach?”
We collapsed like this, Zach taking huge steps forward, toppling me while Istruggled to keep us both upright. If not for the island, we would have found ourselves flat on the floor.
One of my hands steadied my body on the counter, while the other one was fastened around Zach. He breathed heavily, lips glued to my cleavage, his arms draped on my shoulders.
And he smelled like wine. Lots and lots of wine.
“Hmnmnm,” he mumbled.
Ilowered my gaze back down and cupped his cheek. His stubble prickled my skin, his hot breath swirled between my chest, his mouth, and my palm. When Itilted his face up to mine, his bloodshot eyes stared at me through droopy eyelids.
“Zach, honey, what’swrong?” Inever called him that, but he definitely looked like he needed the comfort.
“You’re beautiful.”
It sounded like it saddened him to acknowledge it. Then again, he was drunk. Drunk slurs meant nothing.
But Icouldn’tdeny that Iliked the sound of it coming from him.
“Thank you.” The corners of my mouth tugged up, not sure where to take this conversation. It wasn’tlike this sad man before me had it in him to slur out more than afew syllables.
“You’re m—more than beautiful.” He raised his head as much as he could and went for my lips. Ireared my head back, not afan of taking advantage of drunk men. As cute as they were.
“Nuh-uh, mister.” Ipushed off the island, helping him to lean into me and stand up by himself. “Let’sget you to bed.”
He put more of his weight on me, and Ihad to shove him to keep us from hitting the floor. His head dangled even as he did his best to keep his eyes leveled with mine. “Come to bed with me?”
My eyes darted from him to my laptop, considering my work in progress versus taking care of Zach. Easy choice. “Sure.”
