Chapter 5 #2
I nod, reluctantly pulling away. He rises in one fluid movement, stretching muscles that bunch and flex beneath his shirt. I allow myself to appreciate the view unashamedly, earning a knowing smirk as he catches me looking.
“Bathroom’s all yours,” he says, retrieving his jeans from where he’d draped them over my desk chair last night.
I grab my phone from the nightstand, noting several missed calls from my parents and Samantha.
Guilt twists in my stomach. I should have called them last night, let them know I was okay.
I send a quick text to my sister, promising to call later, then dial my mother’s number as I head to the bathroom.
She answers on the first ring. “Xavier? Baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I assure her, hearing the relief in her quick exhale. “Sorry I didn’t call last night. It was… a long day.”
“Your father told me what happened,” she says, voice tight with controlled emotion. “He said Zach was there. That he helped.”
I pause, toothbrush halfway to my mouth. “He was. He did.”
There’s a brief silence, then, “Is he still there? With you?”
The question carries no judgment, just maternal concern and something else. Understanding, perhaps.
“Yes,” I admit, seeing no point in evasion. “He stayed the night.”
Another pause, longer this time.
“Good,” she says finally. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I rest my forehead against the bathroom door, unexpectedly moved by her acceptance. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Your father and I would like to see you today, if you’re up for it,” she continues. “Maybe dinner? Both of you, if Zach is available.”
The invitation catches me off guard. “Both of us?”
“Yes, honey.” There’s a smile in her voice now. “We’d like to get to know him properly. Under better circumstances than a hospital lockdown.”
I hear the coffee grinder whirring in the kitchen, the domestic sound oddly comforting after yesterday’s chaos. “I’ll ask him. But, yes, dinner would be good.”
“Perfect. Six o’clock. And, Xavier?” Her voice softens. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Me too, Mom. I’ll see you tonight.”
I finish in the bathroom quickly, brushing my teeth and splashing water on my face. The mirror shows dark circles under my eyes, the cut above my eyebrow more pronounced in the harsh bathroom light. I look tired but surprisingly whole for someone who survived what I did yesterday.
When I emerge, the smell of fresh coffee guides me to the kitchen. Zach stands at the counter, his back to me, pouring the dark liquid into two mugs. He’s fully dressed now, hair pulled back in its usual knot, but there’s a relaxed set to his shoulders I’ve rarely seen.
“That smells amazing,” I say, accepting the mug he offers.
Our fingers brush during the exchange, a simple touch that somehow feels more intimate than waking up in his arms. I take a sip, surprised to find it prepared exactly how I like it, strong with just a splash of milk, no sugar.
“You remembered how I take my coffee,” I note.
He leans against the counter, cradling his own mug. Black, I notice. “I remember everything about you, X.”
The simple statement makes my chest tight. I step closer, needing to be in his space. “My parents want us to come to dinner,” I tell him. “Both of us.”
His expression shifts, a flicker of surprise before he schools his features. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
“They suggested it,” I say, watching him carefully. “My dad seems to already know who you are. And my mom sounded… accepting.”
Zach takes a slow sip of his coffee, considering the invitation. “Your dad and I had a moment at the hospital yesterday. It was… unexpected.”
“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?”
“Good, I think.” He sets his mug down, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is casually affectionate, like we’ve been doing this for years instead of days. “He knew who I was, what I am. Didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”
“So you’ll come to dinner?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
His thumb traces my jawline, sending warmth spreading through me. “If you want me there, I’ll be there.”
I lean into his touch, the surety of his presence grounding me. “I want you there.”
His phone buzzes on the counter, the screen lighting up with a text. He glances at it, his expression shifting subtly.
“Club business?” I ask, working to keep my tone neutral.
He nods, picking up the phone. “Grey wants an update. And there’s a meeting later.” His eyes meet mine, serious now. “After what happened yesterday, there’ll be the fallout to manage.”
The reminder of the reality of his other life settles between us. But instead of creating distance, it somehow makes this moment more precious. More real.
“When do you need to go?” I ask.
“Couple hours,” he says, typing a quick response before setting the phone down. “Meeting’s at noon.”
I nod, taking another sip of coffee to hide my disappointment. “I should check in at the hospital anyway. See how Marissa’s doing.”
Zach steps closer, taking the mug from my hands and placing it on the counter. His palms slide up my arms to my shoulders, warm and steady. “I meant what I said last night,” he says, voice low and intent. “About not letting you go easily.”
My breath catches at the look on his face. “I meant what I said too.”
His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones with a gentleness that contradicts his dangerous reputation. “This isn’t just about last night or yesterday. This has been building for years, X. You need to understand that.”
“I do,” I whisper, hands coming up to grip his wrists, feeling his pulse strong and steady beneath my fingers.
“Good,” he murmurs, leaning in until our foreheads touch. “Because later I’m taking you out on an actual date and then I’m going to show you how much I want you.”
The promise in his words sends heat coiling through me.
I close the remaining distance between us, pressing my lips to his.
The kiss deepens immediately, his hands sliding into my hair, and mine gripping the front of his shirt.
There’s a sense of urgency now, a need that burns hotter with each passing second.
When we break apart, both breathing hard, his eyes have darkened to nearly black. “If we don’t stop now,” he says roughly, “I won’t be making that club meeting.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days, maybe years. “We wouldn’t want to keep Grey waiting.”
Zach groans, pressing one more quick kiss to my lips before stepping back. “You’re killing me, Doc.”
I retrieve my coffee, hiding my smile behind the mug. “Go to your meeting. I’ll check in at the hospital.”
He nods, but I can see the reluctance in his eyes. “I’ll pick you up here at five thirty.”
“It’s a date,” I say, the word feeling significant between us.
Zach’s smile, a rare, full smile that transforms his entire face, makes my heart skip. He pulls me in for one more kiss before he leaves, and I know with absolute certainty that I mean it.