I take a step back, my throat tight. "I didn't mean to... interrupt anything."
Another step. My lungs lock, like I can't pull air in.
Any second now I'm going to turn and run, because the air in here feels poisonous. Suffocating.
And the worst part? My mind's already doing it—spinning out ugly pictures of the two of them tangled in his sheets.
My stomach lurches. God, I might actually throw up.
That's when she moves.
Taylor drifts closer, hips swaying like she's gliding instead of walking, and her perfectly manicured hand brushes along Zach'sarm. "Is everything okay?" she asks, her red lips curving into a smile that's all teeth and confidence.
Recognition flashes in her eyes. "Oh... hey. Aren't you the one from the bar the other night?"
Her voice is honey-sweet, smooth and sultry at the same time. Up close, she's even more intimidating—effortlessly glamorous.
I don't answer. I can't. My throat's clamped shut, like words have been locked behind a door with no key.
So, I do the only thing I can—turn on my heel, ready to bolt.
But before I can take a full step, Zach's hand shoots out and clamps around my wrist. Firm. Unyielding.
I whip back to face him, eyes hard. "Zach," I grit out, keeping my voice low but sharp. "Let me go."
My gaze flicks sideways, landing on Taylor.
Weariness coils in my stomach. The last thing I want is her misreading whateverthisis.
She's looking between us now, brows drawn, confusion written plain across her face.
Zach drags in a slow breath, his grip steady, eyes locked on mine. "Taylor," he says, voice even but clipped. "Can you... leave us alone, please?"
"Zach!" I whisper-yell, panic rushing through me. I glance at Taylor, heat climbing my neck. "You don't have to do that—I'll go."
His jaw ticks, muscles tight, his eyes darkening like a storm rolling in. "Taylor. Please."
Taylor blinks, startled, then lets out a small, airy laugh. "O... okay. Sure." She slips past him at the door, the brush of her perfume lingering in her wake. She glances back once, lips still painted in that perfect red curve. "See you later then."
As soon as Taylor left, Zach's grip tightens. He pulls me forward before I can blink, dragging me inside his room. The door slams behind us, and my back hits the wood with a jolt.His body cages me in, heat radiating from his bare chest pressed firm against mine.
I gasp, breath catching, my eyes flying up just as his face lowers close. Too close. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath, smell the faint trace of his cologne clinging to his skin.
The dim light paints shadows over the sharp cut of his jaw, the dark sweep of his lashes. His eyes pin me in place, heavy and unrelenting, swallowing me whole. My lungs forget how to work, my body trembling at the weight of him.
And I inhale sharply, because there's nowhere to run. Not anymore.
"Wha... what are you doing?" My voice trembles, betraying me, and I hate how obvious it is—how he can see every crack in my armor.
His eyes don't move from mine. Unblinking. Burning. "I'm tired of watching you run from me."
He swallows hard, gaze flicking down to my mouth and lingering there, hot and deliberate. My pulse spikes, heat rushing straight to my cheeks. My lips tingle, traitorous, like they know exactly what he's thinking.
God, don't look at me like that.
"Now," he says, voice low and rough, every syllable dragging heat across my skin, "can you tell me why you're here?"
My teeth sink into my lower lip, desperate for something to hold me steady. My heart hammers so hard I can feel it in my throat. "It was a mistake coming here," I whisper, my voice thin, trembling.
