Chapter 16
T he bright ness of the sun blaring through Sevyn’s windows made Hassan squint before his eyes slowly adjusted. He tried to shift, but Sevyn’s head was resting on his chest, her leg draped across his body like she was trying to hold him in place.
He looked down and chuckled softly to himself.
She had been so adamant about him staying on his side of the bed, but clearly, she couldn’t follow her own rules. Sevyn was a wild sleeper—went to bed one way and woke up completely different. Still, he didn’t mind. Not at all.
The warmth of her skin against his… the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing… it calmed him in a way nothing ever had.
For the first time since he was a baby, Hassan had slept through the night. Deep sleep. The kind that left no dreams and no demons. Usually, he was up before the sun even thought about rising, but not this morning.
Whether it was her presence, the feel of her soft sheets, or the quiet safety wrapped around him—he felt peace.
He looked down at her again, her hair wild across his chest, her mouth slightly open. Even with her hair wild and her mouth agape, she still looked beautiful. Dangerously beautiful. He wanted to lay like this forever.
And that scared the shit out of him.
He didn’t do this. Didn’t sleep in a woman’s bed. Didn’t let a woman lay on him. This was unfamiliar territory—uncharted, untested, and unsettling.
But he didn’t want it to end.
Then, the shrill buzz of his phone cut through the quiet, snapping him back to reality.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans, careful not to jostle her too much as she stirred against him.
She shifted slightly off his chest, but he wasn’t ready to lose her warmth.
So he pulled her closer, guiding her body almost fully on top of him.
She mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep, but didn’t wake.
Hard sleeper, he thought. Dangerous, considering she lives alone. But right now? Shit, I’m grateful.
He saw Harper’s name flashing across his screen and answered quickly before it went to voicemail.
“Hassan! Where the fuck you at? We supposed to be with Madea, spending time together,” Harper snapped, her voice laced with irritation.
Hassan groaned, rubbing his forehead. He had completely forgotten.
With Helen’s health steadily declining, he and Harper made a point to carve out one or two days a week to spend time with her. And while he knew it was important… he wasn’t ready to leave Sevyn’s presence.
That realization alone shook him more than Harper’s voice. “Hellooo?” she said again, sharper this time. “Are you with a bitch?”
Hassan chuckled low, glancing at Sevyn still asleep—dead to the world, sprawled across his chest. If only she knew her best friend was literally on top of him.
“Nah, mane. Mind yo fucking business. I’ll be there,” he said before hanging up, not giving her a chance to keep digging.
He dropped the phone to the mattress and leaned his head back, exhaling slowly as the weight of reality crept back in.
Moments later, Sevyn stirred again—this time more alert.
Her lashes fluttered, and then her eyes popped open.
The second she realized how she was laying, she jumped like she’d been electrocuted.
“Shit—sorry!” she gasped, nearly stumbling out of the bed.
She tripped over the covers, and for a second looked like she was about to face plant.
“What you move for?” he asked, voice calm, expression blank, even though his eyes followed her with something softer.
Sevyn blinked away the sleep, trying to pull herself together. She looked at him like she was still processing how they ended up like that.
“I should’ve told you I’m a wild sleeper,” she said, brushing a hand over her hair. “Sorry for—”
“No need,” he cut her off, already swinging his legs over the bed. “This your shit. But you do snore.”
He said it straight-faced, and Sevyn looked mildly horrified. “I do not snore,” she said, defensive, clearly embarrassed.
Hassan shook his head, holding back a smirk. He wasn’t about to admit it out loud, but her little snores were oddly comforting. He could listen to them every night, and the thought freaked him out more than he cared to admit.
He stood, stretching, and Sevyn couldn’t help but stare. Muscles flexe d under inked skin like moving artwork, and when he caught her looking, she tried to glance away—but failed.
“Want breakfast?” she offered, voice soft like it always was around him.
“Nah. I gotta head out,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.
Sevyn nodded, but he saw it—the flicker in her eyes that said she wasn’t ready for him to go. And he’d be lying if he said he was.
“Feeling better?” she asked, brushing her messy ponytail into place, her gaze steady like she was reading him again.
He looked at her, taking in the sight of her standing in that silk pajama set, soft and still half-sleepy.
“Yeah,” he said, quiet. Cold on the outside, like always. But this time… he meant it.
Being with her made the weight in his chest just a little bit easier to carry.
“Your payment should hit in an hour,” he said, grabbing his keys without looking back.
Sevyn’s body tensed.
Just like that, the line between them snapped back into place. Business. That’s what this was supposed to be. No matter how peacefully she’d slept beside him… no matter how she’d held him through the storm last night.
She was starting to feel things she shouldn’t. And she had to stop—before it went too far.
“Good. Be safe,” Sevyn said softly, already turning toward the bathroom. “Just take the elevator down to the lobby.”
She knew that was all she’d get out of him—maybe ever. But just before she disappeared behind the door, Hassan reached out and caught her hand. Gently. Pulled her back to him.
Her palm landed on his chest for balance, and she looked up, those beautiful brown eyes locking with his. His heart thudded in his chest—hard. Too damn hard. And he hated that.
“Thanks for last night,” he said, his voice still cold, like it always was, but his eyes… his eyes gave him away. There was softness there. A flicker of something warmer than he ever let show.
Sevyn gave him a small smile and nodded. “No problem. Just doing my job.”
The words hit a nerve.
He didn’t flinch, but inside, it stung. He knew she still saw him as her patient. That was her boundary. But she was already so much more than just a therapist to him—even if he couldn’t say it, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.
Somehow, she felt it. She always did .
“You’re more to me than my patient, Hassan,” she said suddenly, and his chest tightened. “I’ll probably never be your friend… but you’re mine.”
Her wide smile made it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t. And that unspoken truth in her words? It hit him harder than he expected.
A chuckle slipped out of him, low and brief. He didn’t respond— not with words—but her warmth stayed with him.
How the fuck she do that creepy-ass shit? he thought, eyes narrowing.
No matter how much he tried to stay unreadable, Sevyn always saw straight through him—and that shit was starting to mess with his head.
“Bye, Sevyn,” he said, stepping back before he did something stupid… like stay.
“Bye, friend!” she teased, her voice light, playful. That familiar goofiness he was starting to look forward to.
He shook his head, trying not to smile, and turned to leave—but her voice stopped him at the door.
“You don’t want a hug for the road?” she asked, grinning. He turned, deadpan. “Yo ass just wanna hug me.”
“And don’t act like you don’t like it,” she shot back, bold as ever. He didn’t argue. Couldn’t.
He walked back to her, and when her arms wrapped around him again, he melted into it—just for a second.
Just long enough to remember what peace felt like.
When they finally pulled apart, he turned without a word and left her room, made his way down the stairs, and stepped into the elevator headed to the lobby.
By the time the doors closed, everything he felt upstairs started to slip away. The warmth. The peace. The safeness. It all faded the moment he left her—and the weight of his real life came rushing back like a tidal wave.
After stopping by his place to shower and throw on fresh clothes, Hassan hit the highway, speeding toward the hospital. The weight on his chest hadn’t let up—not even a little. Everything was piling up: the case, Jules' warning, the ghosts clawing their way out of his past.
But through all that noise… one person kept clouding his mind. Sevyn.
The way she looked at him—like she didn’t see the monster everyone else swore he was.
The way she spoke to him, soft and smooth, like her voice was made to soothe the darkest parts of him.
And the way she understood him, every broken piece, without judgment…
it made his heart thump in a way he wasn’t built for.
She reminded him of someone he’d sworn he’d never compare anyone to .
His mother. Kristi.
It was in the small things—her smile, the gentleness in her tone, the way she made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he was still good.
His mother used to tell him that. Used to look at him like he was her greatest creation, even when he was getting into fights at school or challenging his father’s wrath. Her voice was always soft. Always safe.
She was his angel.
And the night she was taken from him—shot in cold blood because of the man she loved—Hassan swore he died with her. His soul cracked in ways he never recovered from.
He buried those feelings. Dug a grave and threw them in. Vowed never to feel that kind of attachment again. Never let anyone close enough to hurt him the way her death had.
But now? Now he had Sevyn.