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“Why don’t Jasmine and I make some coffee, and you boys can do whatever it is that you do in your secret room,” Sabrina says mischievously.
I send Zeke a confused look. “Secret room?”
“It’s not a secret. It’s my computer room. And it’s over there.” He points to the closed door down the hall.
“You won’t let anyone in there, so it must be a secret,” Sabrina continues to tease.
“That’s because you touch stuff you know nothing about and it takes me hours to figure out what you did,” Zeke says.
“If you’d teach me, I’d know.”
“Alex?” Zeke looks to his friend for support.
“Bri, be good.” Then Alex dips his head and kisses Sabrina. “Coffee would be good, baby,” he says. Sabrina melts at his touch, and I can say I’m a little jealous of what the two of them have. I’ve dated and met some really nice men, but never have I had the connection these two have. At least until I met Zeke. And I can’t count that because the situation is so extreme that I could be misreading my emotions for more than what they really are.
Zeke bends and smooths a hand over my hair. “I’ll be a few feet away, Jazzy. Do not open the door, and call me if you need me,” he says. Our eyes meet, and this swoosh of air is released from my lungs, and it feels like everything is just as it should be. A lightness comes over me, and I feel that everything’s going to be okay.
“Okay,” I whisper. I watch as Zeke and Alex strut out of the room and into the secret computer room.
“You’re gone for him,” Sabrina states. I turn sharply, shaking my head. She holds up her hand, palm out. “Please. You can lie to yourself, but I know that look. I see it when Chloe is with Damian, and I know it’s what I do when Alex is around. Deny it all you want, but I know better. And honestly, you couldn’t get a kinder, more intelligent, super-cute guy than Zeke. Well, maybe Alex, but no way am I ever letting him go.” She giggles.
“I—he—it can’t…” I’m at a loss for words.
“Things are extreme. I get that,” she says. She lowers her voice, takes a deep breath, and says, “My ex held me captive, and when I finally escaped, he came after me. Even from prison, he arranged to have me taken and sold off as a sex slave. Talk about extreme. Through it all, Alex stood by my side. I tried to push him away. He wouldn’t let me. If I know Zeke the way I think I do, he’ll stick by you too.”
I was stuck on “he held me captive” and “sex slave.” “Oh my God!” I exclaim. “That’s horrible.” I pull her into my arms and hold on tight. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. How could anyone do that to you?”
“It was awful. There’s a lot I want to forget. But if it led me to Alex, then I can move past the worst and enjoy where we are now,” she says quietly. Then, pulling back, she says, “Let’s get our guys their coffee.”
Maybe protective custody isn’t so bad after all. I’ve got a hot protector, good coffee, and new friends in Sabrina and Alex.
THREE
Coworkers
JASMINE
Zeke has a fabulous apartment, and the spare bedroom looks like something out of an interior design magazine. When I told him he has great taste, he laughed.
“Not me. That’s my sister Jenny. She’s an interior designer. As soon as I moved in, she came out here and started decorating. Mostly everything is hers, but in my room and the living room, I insisted on having a say. My computer room is off-limits, though.”
“The whole place is fantastic. Your sister has great taste.”
“Yeah, she’s good at what she does. She likes to come out this way every once in a while. I think she put the extra effort into the spare room for selfish reasons. Maybe you can meet her next time she visits.”
The silver-blue walls with bright white border make the room light and airy. The dark wood bedroom furniture adds depth to the room, and the cream bedspread with fluffy pillows make me want to sink into bed and forget the day. Sabrina and Alex left a while ago, and I really feel the exhaustion from the day. Heading to bed seems like a heavenly idea.
“Thanks for letting me stay. I know this is an inconvenience, and I appreciate how thoughtful you’ve been,” I say.
“I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here. Sleep well, Jazzy.” The soft click of the door shutting makes it real that I’m alone. Nervous tension starts to build in my stomach, and I busy myself by getting ready for bed, changing into my pj’s and trying to settle my nerves. I slide into the big bed and close my eyes, willing sleep to come. Instead, I hear creaks and noises, and with each passing moment, the tension becomes a full-blown panic attack.
I try to contain my freak-out, but end up whimpering, stuffing my face in the pillow to mute the sobs. Minutes later, Zeke is standing in the doorframe, flipping on the light, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips.
He sees me curled into a ball rocking back and forth and races toward me. He plucks me out of bed and settles me in his lap on the edge of the bed, then gently rubs my back.
“It’s going to be okay, baby. You’re safe with me. I got you,” he murmurs.
“I’m being ri-di-cu-lous.” Words hiccup out as I try to catch my breath. “I’m okay. I’m sorry, you can go back to bed. I’ll pull myself together.”
