My heart sinks a little. Against my better judgment, I blurt out, “Or you could stay.”
Zeke’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance but probably missing by a mile. “If you want. No pressure.”
A slow smile spreads across Zeke’s face. “I’d love to stay.”
Relief washes over me, followed quickly by a wave of nerves. What am I doing? This isn’t like me at all. But as we make our way to the bedroom, I can’t bring myself to regret the invitation.
We settle into bed, and I turn to face Zeke. “Tell me something about yourself,” I say, stifling a yawn. “Something I don’t know.”
Zeke chuckles. “Well, I once won a hot-dog-eating contest in college. Not my proudest moment, but?—”
I try to focus on his words, but my eyelids are getting heavy. The last thing I remember is the warm rumble of Zeke’s voice and thinking how nice it feels to not be alone.
I jolt awake. The room is pitch black, and for a moment, I wonder if what happened last night was a product of my imagination. The result of being on my own for too long. But the soreness in my ass and muscles is sufficient proof that Zeke is very real.
My hand reaches out, patting the empty space beside me.
“Zeke?” I whisper, my voice rough with sleep.
Silence.
A familiar ache settles in my chest. Of course he’s gone. What was I expecting? I sit up, running a hand through my hair.
I fumble for my phone, squinting at the harsh light of the screen. Two-seventeen a.m. Great. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, searching for my discarded underwear. Might as well get some water since sleep seems like a lost cause now.
A flicker of movement catches my eye as I shuffle toward the kitchen. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat. Then I see him—Zeke, standing by the kitchen table, a glass of water in his hand.
“Oh,” I breathe, relief flooding through me. “You’re still here.”
Zeke turns, his smile visible even in the dim light. “Where else would I be?”
I shrug, trying to play it cool. “I don’t know. I woke up, and you were gone, so I thought…”
“That I’d done a midnight runner?” Zeke sets down his glass, moving closer. “Not a chance. I just got thirsty.”
“Right.” I nod. “Of course. That makes sense.”
Zeke’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Were you worried?”
“Worried? Me? Nah,” I scoff, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice. “Okay, maybe a little. It’s just… This isn’t really my usual thing, you know?”
“What, having incredibly hot sex with a devastatingly handsome man?” Zeke grins, closing the distance between us.
I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “The staying over part, smartass.”
“Ah.” Zeke nods sagely. “Well, if it helps, it’s not my usual thing either. But I’m glad I stayed.”
His hand finds mine in the darkness. “Yeah,” I whisper. “Me too.”
Zeke’s gaze drifts back to the table, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What’s all this?” he asks, gesturing to the scattered papers. “Looks important.”
My heart skips a beat. I’d forgotten about those. “Oh, that?” I try to keep my voice casual, but there’s a slight tremor I can’t quite hide. “Just a project I’m working on. Nothing too exciting.”
Zeke raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a playful smirk. “Now, Benjamin, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you tonight, it’s that you’re far from boring. I bet it’s plenty exciting.”
I laugh nervously, running a hand through my hair. “Trust me, it’s not. Just some…personal stuff.” I move toward the table, fighting the urge to gather up the papers and hide them away.
