“It was just breakfast,” he scoffs.
“Something you didn’t have to offer me. Thank you for . . . everything. I don’t think I said that last night. I can repay you?—”
“No.” He holds his hand up, stopping me. “You don’t owe me anything, Zia.”
I stare into his eyes, searching them for answers. The gym he owns isn’t struggling, but it also isn’t thriving, so why wouldn’t he acceptgratitude in the form of money? Is it pride or simply Nikko being a good person?
“Why?” I ask softly. I don’t even realize I’m leaning closer until he does as well. I glance down from his eyes to his lips and back up again.
I want this man in a carnal way. It might just be from excitement or the fact that he wants me back, but it intrigues me. I won’t act on it though. I would never do that to Faiz, even if he’s willing to do that to me, but it doesn’t stop me from looking.
“You kept me company and made me laugh. You don’t owe me anything,” Nikko says. “I enjoyed my night. I enjoyed you being here.”
“Me too,” I admit.
Our eyes lock, and something passes between us, something neither of us are ready to explore. Sometimes you meet someone you feel a strong connection with, and you just know it would be amazing, but if the saying “right person, wrong place” were real, then I would say it applied here.
Nikko and I will never be compatible, nor will I ever betray the promise I made when I agreed to be Faiz’s, but as Nikko’s eyes trace my lips, I wish I were just a bit of a worse person so I could kiss him.
“Zia.” The way he rolls my name over his tongue sounds like a threat and a promise, and I desperately want to find out which.
My heart pounds and desire courses through me as I think about his plump lips, when a loud knock sounds on the door, interrupting us.
Nikko clears his throat as I stand, putting distance between us. “That will be my assistant.”
“Go ahead.” He nods at the door as he grabs the plates and heads into the kitchen, but I swear I see his ears turning red. My cheeks feel hot, and I take a moment to breathe before I walk over and open the door. Yuki stands on the other side, dressed in his three-piece suit, his black hair perfectly styled even at this hour. “Sir.” He bows his head respectfully, something I have never been able to break him from. “The car is downstairs.”
“Ah, thank you. Wait here for a moment,” I tell him, and he nods again and steps back as I shut the door, but I see his eyes go to Nikko.
“Don’t worry, there won’t be anyone downstairs yet, so you’refine,” Nikko says from the kitchen. He’s watching me with a closed expression.
“I wasn’t worried,” I reply. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I hesitate before marching over and grabbing my keys. “Thank you for, well, everything.”
He rolls his lips in and nods, and we stare at each other again, both unsure what to say. I’d offer to see him again, but it would be a lie, and I don’t wish to lie to this man.
There is no place for him in my world, and there is no place for me in his. We can’t be friends, and we definitely can’t be lovers.
We will go back to being strangers, and that thought almost pains me.
“Get home safe,” he croaks, filling the silence.
“I will. Good luck with training.” I turn and head to the door once more. There is nothing else left to say. We both knew this wouldn’t last past this morning.
“Zia,” he calls, and I turn to see him walking around the counter, as if he were worried I would ignore him. “You deserve better. I mean that. I hope you find something or someone that makes you happy.”
I can’t stop the smile that curls my lips as I stare at his sincere expression. “Thank you. So do I. Win that championship. I’ll be cheering for you.”
Opening the door before I do something stupid, I stride past Yuki, who bows his head to me and Nikko, and descend the stairs to the town car idling at the bottom. Just like Nikko promised, nobody is around, and when Yuki slides in after me, we pull onto the city street, leaving Nikko, Nexus, and the whole night behind.
If only it were as simple as leaving the memory of his eyes, his lips, his laughter, and his kindness as well.
They stick with me in a way nothing else has.
“Are you okay, sir?” Yuki asks as he hands over a coffee, no doubt my perfect order. When I take it, he opens his iPad, updating my schedule and emails for me. He’s never not working, and I make a mental reminder to force him to take some time off soon before he burns out.
“How’s your mother?” I ask, staring out of the window. I’m sure he senses the tension I feel, but he doesn’t call me out on it.
“She’s fine, sir, thanks to you. She’s healing well,” he answers with warmth in his voice.
