Picking up my phone, I open the picture of her schedule that she has pinned on the fridge and right there it shows she has a lesson in an hour and will probably leave soon.
Checking the phone tracker I’d managed to put in without her knowing, I tell myself that I have her brother’s permission to watch her is why I’m tracking her not because I have an inherent need to know her every move, I see that she’s home — at least that’s what the phone states. Getting off my chair, I dash out, not pausing to speak with Patrick.
“Will be right back,” I say as I walk away. I call Zack to have the car ready that I’m on my way down.
My elevator ride feels long but it’s moving fast and hasn’t made any stops, I get to the ground floor in record time and get swiftly into my car.
“Take me home,” I say to Zack. Like a magic cure, all the tension and apprehension leave my body and being. I sit back and watch as Zack moves through traffic, not paying attention to the direction. When he pulls up less than ten minutes later, that’s when I realize he has brought me to my apartment building. I’m about to yell at him when I remember Aaron’s remarks and pause.
“Zack, next time I say take me home, I mean where I’m currently living with Miss K.”
“Sorry about that sir.” He puts the gear in drive and gets back onto the road.
“Just get me there fast.” I can’t tell him why I need to be there fast. I check the tracking app again and see that she’s still at the apartment, but she’s going to leave soon. I know how she dislikes being late for her student appointments.
“It’s rude to be late and more so when the person waiting for you is a young eager student. It kills the morale when you are late,” she’d said. I remember how stern her face was when she said that to me. I smile just thinking about her.
We pull up to the building, and I’m already halfway out the door—like a rocket’s lit under me. I don’t wait for the elevator. I charge up the stairs, two steps at a time, breath ragged, heart pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with cardio.
At the third-floor landing, I pause in front of our unit door to catch my breath—but not from the sprint.
Before I can even reach for the knob, the door swings open.
And there she is.
Everything chaotic inside me stills. I am calm.
Her hair is styled in, big twists framing her face, the rest of her braids pulled back in a ponytail. Skin glowing, eyes wide with surprise. A white lace eyelet blouse looks delicate and dangerously sexy on her. Black ripped jeans clinging to her hips like they were sewn on by hand. And that scent—God. Rose and jasmine. Familiar. Addictive. Home.
My heart calms at the sight of her. She’s a vision I’ve missed in every damn way a man can miss a woman he’s falling hard for.
“You’re back!” Her smile could knock the air out of my lungs.
I fucking love that smile. I relish that smile. I own that smile.
“Yeah,” I say, voice low. “Got back last night. Did you come home?” My brow arches.
I know she didn’t. I barely slept, watching the door like a fool. Her tracker was off—probably dead phone or turned off on purpose.
“No, I stayed at Nkem’s,” she says softly. “Just came to change and grab my lesson plans.”
Right. I nod like its news to me.
“I forgot some documents,” I lie.
Her eyebrows lift, and I can see it—just for a second. The flicker ofdid you come back…for me?
I did.Fuck yes, I did.
She opens the door wider, stepping aside so I can step in. As I move past her, she steps out.
No!
I want to stop her. I want to say something that will make her stay. Just for a minute. Just long enough to pretend that we’re not pretending about our attraction.
“See you later,” she says before turning to leave.
“See you later,” I reply. I want more but I don’t want to shock her before I can close the door.
