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“I don’t know who you are.”
“Zaqiel.”
“That clears that up. We’re best buds now. Can I call you Zack?”
I made a face. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
She chuckled. “I’m Evie,” she mumbled as I guided her back into bed, whatever strength that remained she had used in that small interaction. Sitting down next to her and handing her the glass of water again, I used the sheet to pat away the sweat on her face.
“I feel like hell, Zack,” she whispered.
“Well, you look like heaven.”
The words were past my lips before I even had time to stop myself. Evie arched a brow at me, and I stared determinedly at her forehead as I continued to pat her face with the sheet.
“That was a terrible pick-up line.”
“I’m not trying to pick you up,” I said.
She glanced at where we were standing a moment before. “Looks like you already did.”
The corner of my mouth twitched. “Just stay and let me look after you. Okay?”
I expected her to argue again, but she must be feeling worse than she was admitting to herself. Because after a pause, she nodded and slid down against the pillows.
EVIE
Apart from the obvious, I’m not sure why I agreed to stay.
Evidently, Zaqiel was right, and I was in no condition to leave. The rush to my head when I stood had white lights popping in the corners of my eyes, and I had passed out for a few seconds. When I opened my eyes, I was in his arms, staring into his blue eyes.
Those eyes were definitely judging me for trying to stand and leave in the first place.
I blinked a few times. They weren’t the bright blue you always hear described,the man with impossibly blue eyes. No, they were a deep blue as though the depths of the oceans were beneath those irises, flecked with gray. His face was like a sculpted piece of art. His hair was dark, kept in a neat, short cut as though he didn’t want to have to bother looking after it too much. It wasn’t black, and I’m sure if I ran my fingers through it and let the light play off it, there’d be a world of different shades of brown there.
Fuck, he was goddamn breathtaking.
But handsome men often hid terrible secrets, and although he gave me his name and helped me back into bed, I still felt a level of unease. This wasn’t the sort of city where you helped someone in need you found lying on the side of the street, much less the kind of place where you took them to your own home and nursed them back to health. People didn’t do those sorts of things here. Maybe at the other end of the city, where the streets weren’t caked in grime, but here, it was everyone for themselves.
So, what did he have to gain by helping me?
He said I wasn’t a prisoner, but how could I truly know? Until I was well enough to leave of my own accord, I’d have to accept his hospitality and hope for the best. I imagine he’d want sex in exchange for helping me at the very least and looking at his body, unsuccessfully hidden beneath that slightly baggy t-shirt, I wouldn’t mind having him on top of me.
Provided he wasn’t violent like Paul.
He seems like he’d be gentle and not the sort to force.
And if he wouldn’t let me leave when I was able and wanted to, well, I’d deal with that then.
He woke me the next morning with breakfast. Sitting bolt upright when the smell of the food hit me, I immediately regretted it and clutched my head. With my eyes squeezed shut I felt the edge of the mattress depress as he sat heavily next to me, placing a palm on my cheek. Tilting my head into his touch, his palm cool against my warm skin. It felt like I had been sleeping in my own sweat for days.
Perhaps I had been.
My stomach rumbled loudly, and he almost smiled.
Almost.
It was more a twitch of his lips, a slight curving in the corner of his mouth before it dropped again. I realized I wanted to see him smile. He was a blank slate.
