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“Oh, um, hello.” I step closer and take probably too much satisfaction in the fact that he takes a step back.
“Hi.”
“Oh, sorry.” Anya says, seeming slightly flustered. “Zach, this is my brother’s friend Hunter. Hunter, this is my neighbor, Zach.” He holds out his hand, and I take it, probably squeezing just a bit too tight, making the guy wince slightly before he pulls his hand away.
“Zachary Carbon.” He says, like this is a formal fucking environment. “Nice to meet you.” I just give him a simple nod, not interested in giving him anymore information about me. I turn and walk toward Anya’s kitchen, needing something to do besides hovering over them. They continue to talk in low tones for another minute before Zach finally walks away and goes back to his own apartment.
“Sorry about that,” Anya mumbles as she walks into the kitchen and puts the plastic container in the fridge.
“He brought you cake.” I’ve never really been much for sweets, but one thing I’ve learned about Anya recently is that she loves them. She’ll eat four smores when Alec lights a bonfire on the beach, and they usually have extra chocolate on them.
“Yeah,” she says shyly. “There’s this bakery down the street that makes an eclair cake. They only make it every once in a while, but it’s my favorite. So decadent and flavorful.” It’s only cake but hearing her talk about something she’s so excited about sets something off in me. A warmth that I never feel otherwise.
“Zach stops by sometimes after his rounds and if they have it, he’ll grab me a slice.”
“Rounds?” I know I just need to give Tanner his name and he’ll run a background check on him, but that doesn’t prevent me from wanting to find out as much information about him as I can.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a doctor.” I nod my head. Of course he fucking is. And that’s a damn match made in heaven. A doctor and a lawyer. Most parents fucking dream.
“Well, I guess I’ll get back to work.” She walks away as I pull my phone back out of my pocket and shoot off another message, this time directly to Tanner.
Zachary Carbon. Her neighbor.I know Alec did a basic check on everyone in this building when Anya first moved in, but I don’t think he went too in-depth. But with this Zach guy being someone that Anya clearly associates with and talks to, we need more info on him. I don’t know exactly how much time they actually spend together, but according to what Anya just said, he seems to stop by pretty often.
My phone and pings and I glance down at Tanner’s quick reply.On it.
I set my phone down and lean against the counter while I scrub my hands down my face. I feel like I’m fucking losing it right now. I’m the one who stays in control. Always fucking in control. But Anya Matterson? She tests my control in a way that no one ever has before. My strength is being held together with a thin fucking rope, and it feels like Anya is slowly slicing through it with a knife.
I’ve never looked forward to getting away for a few days as much as I am now. Not only do I need this for myself and my damn sanity, but Anya needs it too, for her own safety.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anya
I can’t sleep.Again. But this time it has nothing to do with fear, or even the fact that I’m not in my own bed. It one hundred percent has to do with the fact that there’s a giant, gorgeous man asleep on my couch right now. At least I think he’s asleep. It’s not like he makes any noise when he’s awake. For all I know he's not even here anymore. I’m too terrified to go out into the living room and find out. I roll over and look at the clock, internally groaning at the fact that it’s three in the morning and I have a nine o’clock appointment. There have been plenty of times throughout my college years, and during my corporate career that I ran off of little to no sleep for more than one day at a time. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had to do that, so I have no doubt that it’s going to be a struggle this time.
I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to will my body to calm down and get at least a couple of hours of sleep. Of course, just as my eyes begin to grow heavy, the need to pee hits. I groan out loud and toss my multiple blankets off my body and sit up in frustration. I walk quietly out of the room, hoping not to disturb Hunter if he is asleep. I make a straight shot to the bathroom, not even glancing toward the living room as I do.
On the small trek back to my bedroom, something stops me. A grunt comes from the living room that has my ears perking. I listen closer for a moment, and when another one comes, I realize it’s not what I first thought. It sounds pained, maybe even scared. I quietly walk toward the living room, stopping in the entryway. Hunter is asleep on the couch. He’s basically sitting up and is positioned in a way that has his legs draping over the side. The blanket I gave him before we went to bed is barely covering a single leg and one arm is hanging over the side while the other is behind his head. His eyes are closed, but he looks far from relaxed. His forehead is scrunched up and his jaw is tight.
He’s not wearing a shirt and I feel like a terrible person for the way I let my eyes roam over his tattooed chest. His large arms are also covered in tattoos as well, and I can’t help but want to trace every single one of them.
His head shakes a couple of times, and I’m startled when his eyes suddenly open. I stand in the entry, unmoving, as I watch his chest rise and fall with labored breaths. His piercing eyes find mine in an instant and neither one of us speaks for a long moment. I’m fascinated as his jaw begins to unlock and his shoulders finally relax. It’s almost as if he becomes a completely different person.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I can’t find the words I’m looking for because I have no idea what I want to say or what I even should say. Hunter doesn’t speak either. His gaze bores into mine and in this moment, in the darkness and silence of my otherwise empty apartment, something passes between us. Something that’s both calming and electric at the same time. It’s right now that so much hits me at once. Hunter’s not just a bodyguard, or a mercenary. He’s not just my brother’s friend, or employee. He’s a man. A man that has a lot to him, probably more than I’ll ever really know.
As if to break whatever spell we were both momentarily under, Hunter grunts and repositions himself on the couch. I shake my head once in a failed attempt to clear it. Before either of us can say anything, or acknowledge whatever the hell just happened, I turn on my heel and rush back to my bedroom.
It isn’t until I’m securely behind the closed door of my bedroom that I take a second to process what I just experienced. Hunter was clearly having a bad dream, and a ridiculous part of me wanted to do something about it, to comfort him in some way. Those thoughts are ridiculous, though. Because contrary to anything that may have just happened in my living room, Hunter doesn’t like me. He’s not here out of concern for me or my safety, he’s here because it was an order from my brother. So no matter how much I may want him, or want to be there for him, I need to let it go. With heavy and reluctant steps, I walk back to my bed and climb in. I close my eyes, but visions of Hunter and the fierceness in his gaze swim behind my eyelids.
A puff of air leaves me as I roll onto my side and accept the fact that sleep won’t be coming. Not as long as Hunter is in my living room. Though I can’t decide if that means I want him gone, or if I’m willing to deal with the lack of sleep.
* * *
“You know we’re not going to accept that offer.” I don’t even try to hide my irritation from Lars through the phone. I expected them to try and pull something like this, so I was fully prepared for this argument.
“It’s a good offer, Anya.” I scoff at the condescension in his tone. Lars is an older guy, who I’m pretty sure still believes that the woman’s place is in the kitchen. He’s the type of lawyer I absolutely hate. Partner at a high-end law firm, who is used to people bowing at his feet simply because of who he is and where he works. But that’s not something I’ll do. I won’t do that for anyone.
“No, it’s really not, Lars.” I can practically hear the frustration in his silence through the phone.
