And I realize I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to think about this anymore. What I really want…
Is the thing I can’t have.
“I just…” I shake my head. “I need to get out of here.” I love my apartment, I do. But it’s small and my thoughts are too big. I need to escape them.
He nods, his eyes assessing me like he’s trying to work out if I’m actually okay. “We could go to my place,” he says. “But I have to warn you, the bookshop is full of nosy assholes right now. Most of them related to me. They’re going to have questions if we walk down there.”
My throat tightens. “You don’t have to take care of me. I can leave alone. Go somewhere. I just need to get away from here for a night or two.”
He looks at me like I suggested I swim naked to the mainland.
“Of course I’m taking care of you. You don’t have to be alone.”
He says it like it’s nothing, like scooping me up and taking me somewhere safe is the most natural thing in the world. And maybe for him, it is. But for me, it feels like a revelation.
It feels like aftercare but with clothes on. My chest tightens, not because I’m afraid this time, but because I’m not sure I understand what this is between us. Still, I nod again, and he smiles softly. “Let’s pack an overnight bag for you,” he suggests. “Get you a few essentials so you don’t have to wear my clothes again.”
“You want me to stay with you?”
“You said you don’t want to stay here.” He shrugs, like he isn’t being the sweetest man I’ve ever met.
It takes five minutes to pack a bag with my toiletries, some soft pajamas, and a change of clothes for tomorrow. Then he takes the duffel from me, sliding his free arm around my waist.
“Are you ready for this?” he asks. And I know he’s not talking about going to his place. He’s talking about all the people downstairs who’ll watch us walk out together.
“Are you?” I ask him back.
There’s that smile again. It makes my legs weak. “If any of them make a comment, I’ll wipe the grins off their faces,” he promises. “I’ve done it before. I know their weak spots.”
We walk down the stairs in a single file, voices erupting as they see him head back into the bookshop, then hushing when they get a glance of the expression on his face and the blotchy mess on mine.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to go ahead without me,” Zach says to Romy, reaching for my hand, in public, like it’s not some kind of declaration I know he doesn’t want to make.
I take it anyway, feeling his fingers slide into mine, feeling him squeeze me tightly.
“What about the cupcakes?” Bennett asks. “Nobody’s eating them. You want to take one with you?”
Zach fixes him with a smile. “Thanks, but we’ll pass.” He looks at Hudson, Asher, Parker, and West like he’s challenging them to say something, but they all go quiet. West takes a sip of his beer, Asher shrugs, like he’s letting something go, and Hudson looks us both over, like we’re confirming something he’d already guessed.
As for Romy, she steps out in front, her eyes catching mine.
“You okay?” she asks, like she thinks Zach is kidnapping me against my will in public.
I nod. “I’m good,” I tell her. “I promise.”
“She has her phone,” Zach tells Romy, like he’s trying to say something more. “And so do I. You can message us any time.”
‘Us.’ There it is. It echoes in my ears like a loud drumbeat.
Because there is no ‘us.’ And yet I like the sound of it too much.
Romy steps back. “Okay.” She smiles at me and I half-smile back. This is so surreal. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more protected in my life.
We step outside, the night air cool on my overheated skin. Zach keeps me tucked close to his body as we walk toward his car, one hand on my waist, the other carrying my bag.
He opens the passenger door and helps me in, then tosses my bag behind the seat before sliding in beside me.
Before he starts the ignition, he turns to look at me, and for a second our gazes connect, neither of us saying a word. Then the engine growls to life, the headlights cutting through the darkness, as he turns to face the windshield.
