“I’m right here,” I promise.
I lean down and kiss her. I kiss her like I’m starving. I kiss her like I’m drowning and she’s my only air. My hand slides from her stomach, down to the delicate waistband of her panties, my fingers slipping beneath the lace.
Again, my whole world narrows to just her. The touch of her skin against mine, the scent of her, the small, breathless sounds she makes. Everything else—the past, the future, my doubts, my fears—it all burns away. There is only this. There is only her.
A deep, bone-settling warmth I haven’t felt in... I can’t remember how long settles into my body. Maya’s arm is a comfortable, pleasant weight across my chest and she has one of her legs hooked over mine. I smell vanilla and woman and the musky, intimacy of what we just shared. Her deep, even breathing tells me that she’s starting to doze off.
I am completely, perfectly content. My body is tired in the best possible way, my mind blessedly, astonishingly quiet. I lie still, not wanting to move, not wanting to break the spell. I runmy hand in a long, slow stroke down her back, from her shoulder blade to the soft curve of her hip, just enjoying the feel of her smooth skin.
And then, in the absolute stillness of my mind, a single thought lands. It doesn't arrive with a crash; it settles, soft as snow, but with the weight of an avalanche.
I’m in love with her.
I freeze. My hand stops mid-stroke on her back. My breath catches in my chest. I... love her. The thought is so massive, so terrifying, that my first instinct is to shove it away. To deny it. This is fast. This is insane. We barely know each other.
But my heart, that traitorous organ, gives a powerfulthumpagainst my ribs, right under her ear. And then comes the second wave.The thrill.A giddy, ridiculous, unfamiliar warmth spreads from my center, rushing out to my fingertips and toes. It’s like drinking hot coffee on a freezing day. I look at her,reallylook at her, in the dim light. The soft, vulnerable curve of her eyelashes on her cheek. The possessive, trusting way she’s holding onto me.
A smile I can’t control splits my face. I feel like a complete idiot, grinning in the dark.I’m in love with Maya.I feel an overwhelming, almost painful urge to protect her. To keep her safe. To make her smile every chance I get. I want to know what she looks like when she first wakes up, what she eats for breakfast, what her favorite stupid movie is. I want to knoweverything.
And right on the heels of that soaring, terrifying high, comes the crash.The fear.The smile vanishes. My stomach plummets.I’m in love with her.And this time, the words are a death sentence. Love is vulnerability. Love is handing someone a weapon and trusting them not to use it. Love is... having something to lose. What if I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life? What if she doesn't feel this? What if this, for her,was just... a night? A moment of comfort after a hard week? My chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe. I am completely, totally, hopelessly out of my depth. I’ve just cannonballed into the deep end without checking for water, and I’m in a total, panicked freefall.
She stirs. A tiny, sleepy sound. She nuzzles her face into my chest, like a cat seeking warmth, before her breathing evens out again. And just like that, the panic recedes. It's still there, a cold knot in my stomach, but it’s pushed back by the simple, solid, undeniablerealityof her. She’s here. She’s warm. She’s real. The thrill and the fear. I realize they’re two sides of the same coin. I can’t have one without the other. And as I lie here, holding her, I know with a terrifying certainty that I’d rather have both than go back to the numb emptiness of neither.
A few minutes pass, or maybe an hour. Maya shifts, and this time she lifts her head. She blinks, her eyes unfocused, then they find mine. A slow, sleepy smile spreads across her face.
“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice thick and rough.
“Hey,” I whisper back. My own voice sounds like gravel. I brush a tangled strand of hair from her cheek. “You okay?” It’s a stupid question, but it’s the only one my brain can supply. She nods, not answering, just looking at me. She props herself up on one elbow, the sheet pooling around her waist. She’s so beautiful it actually hurts to look at her.
“That was...” she starts, then bites her lip, as if she can’t find the right word.
“Yeah,” I say, because I understand. “It was.” My heart is hammering again.
Don’t say it, Zachary. Don’t you dare say it. It’s too soon. You’ll scare her off. Don’t be an idiot.So I say the next best thing. The only other truth I have. “I’m really glad I’m here, Maya.”
Her smile softens, the sleepiness replaced by something knowing and warm. She leans down and gives me a soft, chaste kiss. “Me too, Zachary. Me too.”
She lays her head back down on my chest, fitting herself against my side as if she’s always belonged there. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. I don’t know what we are. I don't know what happens when the sun comes up in the morning and we have to face the real world. But for now, with the moonlight coming through the window, and Maya’s breathing a soft rhythm against my heart, I close my eyes. The fear is still there. So is the thrill. And for the first time in my life, I’m not running. I’m holding on.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maya
Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.A persistent, buzzing sound drills its way into my sleep.
I groan, burrowing my face deeper into the pillow. The pillow is warm. It smells incredible—like sandalwood and Zachary and something indefinably comforting. My arm and leg are slung across a solid, breathing furnace, and there’s a muscular arm wrapped possessively around my back.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.The sound is coming from my bedside table. My phone. I peel one eye open. The room is bright, sunlight streaming in past the edge of my curtains. Morning. It’s really morning. Zachary stirs beside me, his breathing hitching, but he doesn't wake. He just pulls me closer in his sleep, his arm tightening around me, his face nosing into my hair. A giddy, fluttering warmth spreads through my chest, and I can't help the small, stupid smile that curves my lips as I think about last night.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt. BZZZT.
“Okay, okay,” I mumble, reluctantly untangling myself from the cocoon of blankets and Zachary’s arms. The air is cold onmy bare skin, and I shiver, grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it on before snatching the phone.
On the screen is the number of my doctor’s office. My heart doesn't just stop. It doesn't just lurch. It freefalls, plummeting into a cold, dark pit of absolute terror. The warmth of the morning, the contentment, the memory of last night—it all evaporates. I’m cold. I’m trembling. My hand is shaking so badly I almost drop the phone. I slide off the bed, stumbling away toward the window as I press the “accept” icon. “H-hello?” My voice is a tiny, reedy thing.
“Maya? It’s Dr. Sharma. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No. No, it's fine,” I lie, my back pressed against the cold wall.
