I exhale loudly. “Fine. But you stay on your side of the bed.”
His only answer is a smirk. Asshole.
“You hungry? Thirsty?”
Now that he mentions it, I’m starving. “Yeah, actually.”
He pulls out his phone and sends a text. “Food will be here in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” I stand there, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
I watch him push the bathroom door wide open and flip the light on. “There’s shit in the cabinets. Help yourself.”
I peek into the bathroom. It’s even bigger than I thought from the outside. With a massive walk-in shower, a huge soaking tub, and double sinks that take up an entire wall. All in black marble and chrome.
“Uh… do you think I could borrow some clean clothes?” I ask, gesturing at the jeans and top I’ve been wearing for what feels like a week.
Zak walks to a dresser, pulls open a drawer, grabs a long-sleeved cotton T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and hands them to me. I look at the clothes in my hands then at him.
“But these are yours…”
“And?” He cocks a brow, looking infuriatingly sexy doing it.
“I can’t wear your clothes.”
He sighs heavily. “Nadia, go change.”
I shrug, feeling the weight of the exhaustion from the last couple of hours drain the last dregs of fight I had in me. “Fine.”
I get inside the bathroom, close the door, and lean against it.
What the hell is even my life right now?!
I run my hands under the water to rinse my face, then press them at the base of my neck. I strip off my clothes to pull on Zak’s. Everything is huge. The t-shirt falls mid-thigh, the sleeves past my fingertips, the shorts almost hit my ankles. I roll up the sleeves and scoff when I check myself in the mirror. I look ridiculous.
When I open the door, Zak’s sitting on the edge of the bed. He looks up at me and goes completely still. His eyes drag down my body slowly, taking in every inch of me swimming in his clothes, his jaw tightening.
“What?” I ask, looking down at myself. “What’s wrong?”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard before responding in a raspy voice, “Nothing’s wrong.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Then stop staring.” He doesn’t even blink, and heat floods my face. “Zak.”
He comes close, whispering low, “Looks good on you.”
I shrug, trying for nonchalance. “It’s just a shirt and shorts.”
“But they’re mine,” he replies in a low, possessive voice.
Oooh… Nope. Not going there.
Thank God, that’s the moment we hear a knock at the door. Zak opens it, and a woman walks in carrying a tray. She smiles warmly at us, lowering her head, then sets the food on a small table near the large windows.
“Thank you, Maria,” Zak says, nodding at her.
“Of course, sir. Please let us know if there’s anything else.” Then she leaves.
He takes my hand and walks us to the table. There are two bowls of steaming soup that smell heavenly, warm bread, fruit, acrystal carafe filled with fresh water, and a teapot and cups. All the dishes, beautiful china.
