4. Steele
STEELE
T he roads glow beneath the streetlights, slick with the remnants of an earlier rain.
Chicago is one city that never really sleeps.
The hum of traffic in the distance, the faint wail of a siren cutting through the night, the glow of shop signs casting flickering reflections against the wet pavement.
It all pulses around me, steady and alive.
Inside the car, there’s nothing but silence.
One hand grips the wheel as the other taps against my thigh.
The restless energy buzzing through my veins makes it impossible to sit still.
Lilah is huddled in the passenger seat, her body turned slightly toward the window, her face illuminated by the neon red of a passing taillight.
She hasn’t said much since we left The Rail Yard.
I’m sure she’s still processing what happened. Overanalyzing everything about their relationship and how it ended.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Her exhale is barely audible over the smooth glide of the tires against the pavement. “I don’t know.”
That answer doesn’t sit right with me, and my fingers clench around the wheel. “It’ll just take time to make your peace with what happened. That’s all. Once the shock wears off, you’ll be fine.”
“You’re right.” She glances at me. “I know I said it before, but I really want you to know how much I appreciate you letting me stay at your place. You’ve always been there when I needed you.” The corners of her lips tip upward. “You’re a good friend.”
Even though her words shouldn’t be a dagger to my heart, that’s exactly what they are.
I force a smile in response. Lilah has always been oblivious to my feelings.
And I’ve been too chickenshit to put them out there and rock the boat.
I’ve been afraid to make her feel uncomfortable. There’s no way I can lose her.
What the hell would I do if that happened?
Her presence in my life is the one thing I’m unwilling to risk.
“No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you,” I say, flicking my turn signal on just before I pull into the private garage beneath my building. The underground parking structure is dimly lit, and the air is thick with the scent of concrete, oil, and rain carried in from the street.
The elevator ride up to my apartment is made in silence. From the corner of my eye, I watch Lilah fidget, shifting from one foot to the other as she chews her bottom lip. It’s so damn tempting to pull her into my arms and offer comfort.
A few seconds later, the doors slide open, revealing the sprawling penthouse I bought two years ago when I signed another contract with Chicago.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the length of the wall opposite us, displaying a glittering, uninterrupted view of Lake Michigan.
The water in the distance is dark and vast, the city skyline reflecting off its surface.
From this height, Chicago looks almost peaceful, the noise from the street muted, the flashing lights just tiny specks against the night .
Lilah hesitates in the cavernous entryway as her fingers tighten around the strap of her purse. “Last chance, Sanderson. Are you absolutely sure about this?” she asks. “Evelyn will let me stay with her until I can get my shit together.”
Over my dead body is that happening.
I take her purse and drop it on the credenza near the elevator. “I’ve already told you that I want you here.”
With a sigh, she rubs her arms as her gaze wanders around the space. “I’m serious about not wanting to get in your way.”
I roll my eyes before slipping an arm around her waist and steering her into the living room. I’m almost afraid she’s going to try and make a run for it. Little does she know, I’m not above tackling her to the floor.
As soon as I make contact, a sizzle of electricity zips through my fingers. How doesn’t she feel the energy we always seem to generate?
There’s no damn way this is one-sided.
“You won’t. Look around. There’s plenty of space. Didn’t you tell me when I bought the place that it was roomy enough for a family of six?”
Her lips twitch as I sling her words back at her. “It is.”
“And you love the views of the lake,” I add, trying to throw in any perk I can think of to secure her agreement. “Not to mention the gym on the fifth floor. Did I tell you they added a sauna?”
“Hmm. That does sound nice.”
“I used it the other day. It’s heaven. Especially after a workout.”
“All right. You’ve convinced me. I’ll stay.” She points a finger at me. “But only because of the sauna.”
And just like that, the tension inside me eases. Instead of giving her time to think—or worse, change her mind—I steer her toward the guest room situated directly across from mine.
Would I prefer for Lilah to share my bed?
Hell yeah.
But that’s not going to happen.
What she needs right now is time.
Time to realize that Devon was never the right guy for her.
Time to realize that maybe the right one has been standing in front of her all along.
I nudge open the guest room door and gesture for her to move inside. “Here you are.”
She takes a step in, then beelines to the king-sized bed. Her fingers trail along the pillowcase. “I love these sheets.”
I lift a shoulder in a half-shrug. “You should. You’re the one who picked them out. You told me they were the best. Something like a bazillion thread count.”
“One thousand. And they’re Egyptian cotton,” she corrects before turning toward the dresser where there’s a basket of neatly arranged products.
She picks up a small bottle and stares at it as her brows tug together. “Funny. This is the same brand of shampoo and conditioner I use.”
I rub a hand along my jaw, embarrassed that she noticed. How can someone be so oblivious in some areas of her life and so detail oriented in others?
It’s a real fucking mystery.
“Yeah, I’ve always liked the scent.”
“Huh.” She pops open the top and takes a whiff. “Me too. There’s just something so comforting about tea tree and mint.”
I glance away and try to play it off. “Guess I figured you might need it at some point.”
With an exhale, she cocks her head and stares at me, as if only now realizing that I’m a puzzle she might not have all the pieces to.
Her throat works as she swallows. And for a moment, the air turns charged between us.
I look away first, not wanting her to read too much in my expression. “You can use them while relaxing in a hot bath. Sound good?”
It’s exactly what she needs to decompress.
Without waiting for a response, I walk into the adjoining bathroom and twist the knobs, running warm water into the deep soaking tub. It doesn’t take long before steam rises in the air, thick with the scent of the orange and ginger bath salts I dumped in.
Another one of her favorites.
“Steele, I can do?—”
“You’ve had a rough day, lucky charm. Just let me take care of you for once.” I grab a fluffy towel from the closet and set it on the marble counter.
Lilah leans against the doorframe, watching me in silence. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “My favorite bath salts too? You’re better than a five-star hotel. Maybe I’ll never move out.”
She has no damn idea how much I’d love that.
I shrug. It takes effort to keep my tone light. “Like the shampoo and conditioner, they smell good.”
She blinks before looking down at the swirling water.
I take a step back and jerk my chin toward the tub. “Go have a nice soak. Did you eat dinner?”
“No, the plan was to grab something at the game.” Her brows pinch as sadness flickers in her eyes. “But I never made it to the arena.”
It feels like someone has wrapped their hand around my heart and is squeezing the life out of it.
I fucking hate seeing her this upset.
Especially over that asshole.
He’s not worth it.
The fact that he cheated on Lilah blows my mind.
How could any man even look in another woman’s direction if Lilah Monroe belonged to him?
It just proves my point that he was never worthy of her in the first place.
He never treated her the way he should have.
This girl deserves to be pampered and adored.
Before I can think better of it, I swallow up the space between us and reach out, tugging her into my arms. As soon as they’re banded around her, she melts against me.
I rest my chin on the top of her head. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”
She hesitates for a second before her muscles loosen. “I know. It just…”
“Hurts,” I finish for her.
“Yeah. I really didn’t expect it. I never thought Devon was the kind of guy who would sneak around behind my back. All it does is make me question my own judgment, you know?”
For just a heartbeat, I pull her even closer. What I really want to do is hunt the bastard down who hurt her and make him feel just a fraction of the pain he caused a woman who deserved so much more.
Even though the last thing I want to do is set her free, I force my arms to drop and take a step in retreat. “Take your bath, and I’ll figure out dinner.” I pat my belly. “I’m famished.”
Some of the sadness fades as she smirks. “What else is new? You’re always hungry. How you manage to keep your girlish figure, I’ll never know.”
I lift a brow and tease, “So you’ve been checking out my figure, huh?”
A flush creeps into her cheeks as she looks away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
The words land sharper than I expect.
And yet, I just smile through it like I always do, even as something constricts inside me. Because no matter how many times I tell myself to move on, it’s clear she only sees me as a friend.
Maybe I really am a glutton for punishment. Maybe some part of me would rather stay close and secretly pine for her than walk away from the only woman I’ve ever loved.
I clear my throat, needing to pick up the tattered pieces of my ego and get the hell out of here. “Take as much time as you need. When you’re ready to eat, the food will be waiting.”
“Thanks again, Steele. You’re a good friend.”
And the hits just keep coming.