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Maybe he had no one to call anyway.
I thought about going downstairs and seeing if the old public phone most of these buildings had in the lobby worked, but if anyone who knew me saw me, I’d be in real trouble. Plus, I’d have led them straight to Zaqiel’s doorstep. While I’m sure he was quite capable of looking after himself, putting him in a position where he had to take on Tyson and his goons wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. That, and if Tyson found out Heidi had been in contact with me, she’d bear the brunt of his anger while trying to find answers as to my whereabouts.
He’d be looking for me.
Not too hard, barely at all, but he’d be keeping an eye out. News traveled fast amongst the girls, and even a whisper that Heidi had heard from me since I’d beenkidnappedwould mean big trouble for her. So, the lesser of two evils was to let myself disappear until I was ready to face the world again.
“You’re awake.”
I was wrenched from my thoughts as Zaqiel entered the room, his face somehow more passively blank than it had been before yesterday.
Had I done something wrong? I thought we had broken through the blank slate he presented me with. We had talked yesterday, really talked, and I hated to admit the way my chest ached when he didn’t quite meet my eyes as he entered the room with breakfast. I asked him to stay and chat while I ate, but he just shook his head and left the room.
I didn’t understand the change in behavior, and when I called after him, he didn’t answer.
It honestly felt like my heart was breaking.
That was another scar I didn’t need.
The next day passed with much the same behavior from him, and while I had managed to get him to sit and watch a movie with me, he kept his eyes glued firmly to the television and barely looked at me. The following day and I had enough of his shit. I was healed enough to move around the apartment on my own without much pain, so when I woke, and it was still dark out, I flipped off the blankets and went out into the living room. He was sleeping on the couch, his legs hanging off the edge of the too-short piece of furniture, his arms folded across his chest, and the blanket he had been using cast aside on the floor.
Kneeling next to him, I brushed my hand along his cheek. He was stunning—the line of his jaw and neck, the cut muscles of his chest and stomach. Those eyes, while closed, were still beautiful. Thick lashes and eyebrows, a slight frown creasing his brow as he slept.
I wanted to kiss him.
“You should be in bed.”
I just about screamed. “You scared the shit out of me,” I hissed through my teeth.
He kept his eyes closed, and his lips twitched into that almost smile. “Do you need another bath?”
But as soon as he said it, the look disappeared, and his face was a blank slate again. I felt as though it was a peek into the man who had previously been opening up to me, the one with a sense of humor, the one who cared beyond his role as a caregiver.
The one who perhaps stole glances at my body, even if he denied it.
“Why aren’t you talking to me?” I asked.
He opened his eyes and rolled his head until he was facing me, his eyes raking up and down my body as I kneeled next to the couch.
“We’re talking.”
“No, don’t give me that. You know what I mean. The other day we really talked and connected, and then the next morning, you wouldn’t even look at me. I want to know why.”
“Evie…”
It was a warning not to ask further questions, and I shouldn’t have even asked this question. As though simply by being out of bed and here, I was pushing him too far. But his voice trailed off, and I didn’t speak, waiting for him to say something else, anything. But he didn’t talk. His eyes were pleading with mine as though there were a thousand things he couldn’t say locked in that head of his. I wanted to get him to talk to me, but I didn’t know how. I lifted my hand to brush his cheek again, and with reflexes that awed me, he snatched my wrist out of the air before I made contact. He didn’t move his eyes from my face, and I’m not even sure how he saw my hand in the dim room.
Zaqiel held my gaze for a long while, his eyes darting between mine, and I could see the battle that now raged within him. He had told me he was a caregiver and nothing more. But then something had sparked between us whichmadeit more, and for whatever reason, he was struggling with it now, denying himself the temptation.
The temptation I was to him.
Fuck, I’ve never met anyone like him in my life.
“Evie,” he said it again, but this time the pain in his eyes was reflected in his voice. The word trembled on his lips, and his grip on my wrist slackened. I hesitated for only a moment longer before cupping his cheek and sighing at the way he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.
I opened my mouth to say something, but what was there to say?
So, I kissed him, pressing my lips delicately to his. I expected him to pull away, to lean back, to move away from me in any way he could. But when his lips moved against mine, I swear I melted against him, moaning against his lips as I leaned forward, pressing my torso against the scratchy fabric of the couch, desperate to get closer to him. I didn’t open my eyes, and our lips didn’t break contact as he shifted, running his hand along my cheek before tucking his fingers into my hair. I broke away from him and stared into his eyes.
