Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Zane leaned against the wall near Harold’s hospital bed, arms crossed over his chest and looked between Asha and her father. Harold was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in time with the soft whoosh of the oxygen flow, steady and reassuring. The lines of worry that had etched themselves deep into Asha’s face hadn’t eased, though she sat statue still in the chair beside the bed.
He wanted to order her to get some rest or maybe eat first. He wanted?—
The door swung open, and a man in scrubs stepped in. Zane straightened. The man looked to be about ten years older than Zane, his scrubs faintly creased from fresh laundry. His hair was still damp, as though he’d rinsed off after a long shift. The alertness in his eyes, despite the dark shadows beneath them, reminded Zane of a firefighter who’d just come off a blaze but was still running on adrenaline.
“Good evening,” the doctor began as he shifted his gaze between Zane and Asha. “I’m Dr. Reid. I just finished surgery on Mrs. Williams.”
Asha sat up straighter, the tension in her frame coiling tighter. “How is she?” she asked, quieter than usual.
Dr. Reid offered a reassuring nod. “The procedure went well. The hip was badly fractured, but we’ve stabilized it with screws and a plate. She’s going to need several weeks of rest, followed by physical therapy. It’s a long recovery, but the prognosis is good.”
Asha let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping in visible relief. “Thank you.”
Zane watched as her father stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked groggily, his focus slowly landing on Asha. “Your mom…” he rasped weakly.
“She’s okay, Dad.” Asha leaned closer. “The surgery went well. She’s in recovery now.”
Mr. Williams exhaled heavily, a hint of relief softening his lined features. He shifted his gaze toward Zane, his expression grateful but weary. “You… you saved us. Thank you.”
Zane shook his head, stepping forward. “Just doing my job, Mr. Williams. I’m glad you’re both going to be okay.”
Dr. Reid stepped forward and addressed Asha. “You should get some rest, too. It’s been a long day, and you won’t do anyone any good if you wear yourself out.”
Asha nodded, though her posture remained stiff. The doctor gave a polite nod to Zane before departing and leaving the room bathed in quiet stillness. Mr. Williams’s eyes drifted shut again, exhaustion quickly overtaking him.
Even with the dark circles under her eyes and the weariness tugging at her features, she was beautiful. But not in the way he remembered. Back then, she’d been all soft curves and easy laughter, her presence like sunlight—warm and steady. Now, the girl he’d loved had become a woman carved by experience and responsibility.
Her golden-brown skin still glowed, and those big, intelligent eyes—deep brown and always too knowing—held the same sharpness he remembered. But now they were shadowed with something heavier. Exhaustion. Worry. The weight of holding too much for too long.
Her once-round cheeks had slimmed with age and stress, giving her face more contour, but there was still nothing harsh about her—except the way she wore her clothes. The tailored business suit clung to her like armor, clean lines and crisp edges trying to hold everything else in place.
“You need to eat,” he said.
Asha frowned, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he countered, drawing closer. “When was the last time you ate?”
Her brow furrowed, and she opened her mouth to respond, only to falter. She glanced away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I… I don’t remember.”
Zane let out a low sigh, his hands settling on his hips. “It’s just like the old days.” He shook his head. “When you were cramming for a test and forgot to eat. You still have to take care of yourself, Asha. Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria.”
She crossed her arms, her lips pressing tighter. “I can’t leave him.”
“He’s asleep, and he’ll be out for a while,” Zane insisted. “You need to eat. Just ten minutes. Then we’ll come right back.”
Her glare was sharp.
“Don’t make me drag you down there.”
“I’m fine,” she said, though without conviction.
“Asha,” he said, his worry spiking. “You need to take care of yourself, too. What happens if you run yourself into the ground? Who’s going to look after your parents then?”
Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. Gently but firmly, he placed a hand on her arm. “Come on. Just for a bite. You eat, and we come right back. Deal?”
She hesitated, her lips parting as though to argue, but the fight seemed to drain out of her. “Fine,” she muttered, standing and smoothing her hands over her jeans.
Zane led the way out of the room, glancing back to make sure she followed. As they headed toward the cafeteria, he cast a sideways look at her, his worry deepening.
“You really haven’t eaten all day?” He kept his question casual.
She shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry.”
“That’s not an excuse.” Zane’s jaw tightened, and he let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I should spank you for that.”
Her head snapped up, her eyes widening. “Spank me?”
Something flashed in her eyes—intrigue maybe? Whatever it was, it made his cock stir to life behind his zipper.
The corner of his mouth twitched, though he kept his expression mostly neutral. “Yeah. Spank you. For not taking care of yourself.”
Asha narrowed her eyes and firmed her lips, yet beneath her irritation, a flicker of curiosity—and something warmer—stirred at his mention of a spanking. Her pulse quickened.
As they stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft chime, Asha stole a glance at him. The confined space brought back memories of a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey .
Asha’s irritation at Zane’s assertiveness was undeniable, yet beneath that surface bristling lay an unexpected undercurrent of intrigue—and, to her surprise, arousal. The mere mention of a spanking gave her a delicious shiver, quickening her pulse. Am I into that? The thought was both startling and provocative. Am I into Zane? The answer was immediate and undeniable. Of course she was. He wasn’t the young boy she had been head over heels for before leaving Peaceful with a broken heart and spirit, but he was still Zane—strong, reliable, with a take-charge attitude that both stimulated and annoyed her.
The confined space seemed to shrink around them, amplifying the heat radiating from Zane’s body. She could almost feel the electric charge between them, her pulse quickening with each passing second. The memory of a particular elevator scene in her favorite erotic romance novel made her acutely aware of Zane's presence beside her. Her breath hitched, and warmth pooled low in her belly. Oh hell. She shifted her weight slightly. And now she was getting aroused.
Zane stood beside her, his presence commanding yet comforting. The scent of his cologne—woodsy with a hint of spice—filled the small space, making her acutely aware of how close they were. She made fists, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Maybe he doesn't hate me . After all, he had come all the way to the city. He didn’t need to do that. It went beyond the job he kept referring to.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the cafeteria floor. Asha exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and stepped out with a newfound awareness of the man beside her and the unresolved tension simmering between them.