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I walk out of his room and stop at the next door down, feeling his eyes on me.
“Don’t bother knocking. Just go on in.”
I turn around and cock my head at Gunner.
“Go on,” He says. “We’re trying to keep him in bed to rest.”
The metal of the doorknob is cold against my fingers, and my heart is pounding as I turn it and push the door open.
“Zeke?” I keep my voice quiet as I close the door behind me.
It’s dim, but not completely dark as I tiptoe through. I’m in a narrow entryway that opens into a room much smaller than Gunner’s more loft-like space. There’s room for a king-sized bed and one small sofa. The rest of the room is completely lined with instruments. There’s a drum set in one corner and a keyboard in another. There are electric guitars and an electric bass hanging on one wall with a row of acoustic guitars underneath. I see Zeke’s computer on a desk and an enormous pair of speakers. It’s chaotic, but somehow it seems to suit Zeke perfectly.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
The sound of Zeke’s voice makes me jump. I titter nervously.
“I didn’t realize you were awake,” I say, walking over to Zeke’s bed.
Zeke is lying in the center, his arms stretched out and the sheets pulled up just to his waist. There’s a white bandage along one side of his stomach, but it takes nothing away from his chiseled abdomen. Both of his nipples are pierced with silver rings that I want to touch, despite myself, and the decorations don’t end there.
I’m surprised at how many colorful, bold tattoos I can see now that Zeke is completely shirtless, and the sight of his six-pack almost makes my eyes water. Best of all, he’s smiling, this man I once referred to as Adonis, and Zeke is patting the spot on the bed next to him.
I perch there gingerly and Zeke reaches to wrap an arm around me.
“I’d take a bullet anytime if it gets you in bed with me,” Zeke grins, and his blue eyes twinkle.
“Oh, you,” I say, turning my head away. I don’t want Zeke to see me blush.
“But seriously,” Zeke says, touching his finger to my chin to tilt my head his way. “You risked your own life for me. You have to know that I’d do the same for you. I’d die for you, Goldie.”
Zeke’s blue eyes look earnest, but his declaration is making me uncomfortable. I can’t believe that this beautiful man could actually be interested in me. My armor is my eye roll.
“Oh, Zeke,” I answer, doing my best to sound bored. “I don’t want you to die for me. How about you play me something when you feel better?”
Zeke turns on the bed, moving his legs beneath him. When he is sitting up on his knees, I cry out in protest.
“Not right now!” I screech, watching Zeke lean over to reach an acoustic guitar. “You need to rest! I meant when you feel better!”
Zeke laughs at my reaction as he settles back in with the guitar on his lap. “Come on, babe. That bullet barely nicked me. Just a quick in and out.”
As he strums the guitar, I realize that I've been defeated.
“All right,” I acquiesce. “Just one song. Afterwards, you have to rest.”
“I promise,” Zeke quips, batting his eyelashes. “What do you want me to play?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I reply, suddenly feeling embarrassed. I only know classical, from playing piano, and then, well, church music. “Just play me one of your favorites.”
Zeke nods with a kind smile, and I shift around to face him while he plays.
Zeke strums a few practice chords and clears his throat before he really begins to play. His fingers expertly pick the strings, and when he sings, Zeke stares directly into my eyes.
This man canreallysing. His voice is wistful and slightly raspy, but hauntingly beautiful. The kind of sound that could be on the radio. It’s the blues, but it’s a love song, and Zeke sings hisheart out to me. The catchy tune is about falling in love with the son of a preacher and seems pertinent to the situation at hand.
I’m tingling from my head to my toes. My stomach is performing somersaults and my palms begin to sweat. This reminds me of a scene from a movie. It’s all so romantic.
Zeke strums the final chord and the last notes seem to hang in the air. For a moment, I sit there, stunned.
