Chapter 4
EZRA
As my heart jumped into my throat, I said, “Tate, you’re here.” I had to pretend I was happy to see him. I stood with my coffee. “We were, uh, just talking about you.” I flashed a glance at Lucas.
Tate stomped to me. “Yeah? What are you doing here with him?” He pointed a glare at Lucas.
With a sharp chuckle, I said, “I told you I was hungry. He just happened to be here when I walked in.” I gave Lucas, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, a pointed look. “Turns out he lives close by, right, Lucas?”
Lucas rose. “Yeah, I, uh, I actually do.” He cleared his throat. “I hoped I could get a preview of the photos Ezra took of me.”
“Did you now?” Tate stepped nearer to Lucas, their chests almost touching. “If he had photos, they’d be on his laptop. I don’t see his laptop in here, do you?”
“Tate, babe, settle down. They’re on my OneDrive, which is installed on my phone.” I pushed on Tate’s chest, and he took a step back. Tate needed to leave before he asked more questions.
“Did you like what you saw?” Tate flared his nostrils.
“I did. Ezra takes great photos.” Lucas lifted his chin.
“Okay, then I guess you can go now. Right?” Pursing his lips, Tate planted his hands on his hips.
With his brows snapping together, Lucas swung his gaze at me. “Um…”
“Right?” Tate flicked his gaze from me to Lucas. “Your business is finished now, puck boy.”
Lucas opened his mouth and shut it.
Shit, Lucas would get us both in trouble if he said any more. I had to think quickly. “I’ll send you an email with more information. Okay?” I raised my brows. Would he understand I meant that I’d talk to him later?
Lucas’s jaw clenched and relaxed. “Yeah, sure.” He threw a quick glare at Tate and paced by him.
Tate snatched Lucas’s arm. “What was that for?”
“You need to work on your manners.” Lucas straightened his spine, his free hand fisting.
Oh fuck. My stomach recoiled. This could be bad. “Oh, come on, guys. Let’s not do this.” I clasped Tate’s arm, and he flung it, knocking me stumbling backward.
“Fuck, Ezra.” Lucas grabbed me around the waist, righting me. “You okay?”
His muscular arms warmed my insides. If only…
“Don’t touch him.” Tate jabbed a finger into Lucas’s chest.
“Hey, have we got a problem here?” A barista called from behind the counter.
“No problem, man. This hockey fucker was just leaving.” Tate wrenched Lucas’s arm from me and then shoved him toward the door. “Right? Just leaving.”
As his gaze swept over me and he stood his ground, Lucas said, “What do you want, Ezra?”
I mouthed, go, and hung my head. The last thing I needed was for the barista to call the police.
“Okay.” Lucas focused his glare on Tate. “Don’t be a dick.” He clomped out the door, looked both ways and then, with a scowl, headed in the direction of the studio.
I peeked at Tate from under my bangs. He wouldn’t bother me again inside the coffee shop, would he?
“Ezra, what was that all about?” Tate eyed me.
“We told you. He was already here when I came in and we decided to review his photos in person.” I glanced at the barista, hands on the counter and still watching us. “You can’t treat my clients that way.”
“He’s not your client. The hockey team PR lady is your client.” He yanked on my arm. “Come on, let’s return to the studio. Don’t you have work to do?”
I nodded. I had no choice but to go with him. As I followed him through the doors and into the sunny afternoon, I glanced behind me. This was embarrassing. Tate was getting worse. I had to end it. But how?
Ambling behind Tate on the sidewalk, I mulled through my options. If I point blank told him it was over, what would he do? Would he try to hurt me again? If I did it in a public place, maybe I’d have better luck.
As we approached the parking area for the studio, Lucas drove slowly by in a black jeep with the window down. He rested his arm on the windowsill, peered at us and then sped away.
Tate growled and grabbed my hand, squeezing it.
A lump formed in my throat. Lucas must think I’m an idiot. I am, aren’t I?
After spending an hour placating Tate, he calmed and left, and I’d been able to get some work done. He’d wanted to take me to dinner, but I’d been able to convince him I was too busy. I wouldn’t have been able to eat, anyway.
After working another few hours, I strolled home, enjoying the sunset’s splashing colors of reds and oranges over the tall trees. I might DoorDash some dinner in. I was too tired to cook. As I stepped to my door, footsteps clomped behind me. “Shit.” Was it Tate again? Cringing, I swiveled.
“Ezra?” Lucas stepped toward me, his forehead wrinkling. “Are you okay?”
“Shit.” I blew out a breath and slumped. “I thought you were Tate.” My heart danced against my ribcage. “What are you doing here?” Had he followed me home?
“I, uh…” A sheepish grin worked over his lips. “I couldn’t leave you with Tate like that. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No, not this time.” I leaned my shoulder against my door. Should I let him in? But what if Tate showed up?
He stepped closer, his gaze searching my face. “Ezra, what he does to you isn’t right.” He hovered his hand over my arm and dropped it. “I don’t know what’s going on inside me, but I can’t walk away from this.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean?” He was straight, right?
Dipping his head, he said, “I was worried as fuck about you.” His gaze crept to mine. “Can we go inside?” His brows creased.
“Sure.” Fuck Tate. If he showed up unannounced with Lucas in my place, he’d surely start an actual fight and then I’d call the cops. It would be my way out. I slid my backpack off my arm to get my key and unlocked the door. We stepped inside.
He studied my apartment, strolling around the main room, and fell into the corner of the sofa. “Have you had dinner yet?” He uncurled his thick arm across the back cushions.
I cocked my head. He sure was making himself at home. But it felt calming, having him in my place. Whenever Tate had been here, I’d always felt like I was walking on eggshells. “Nope. I was thinking of DoorDashing.”
“Sounds good to me. You don’t mind, do you?” He angled himself toward me.
“No, of course not.” I set my backpack on my dinette and fished my phone from the side pocket. “What do you like?”
“I should stick to healthy food with our nutrition program. How about Thai? There’s usually a salmon dish that’s good.” His gaze roamed my body and stopped just under my navel for a beat, then veered away.
Was he looking at my dick? No, I was seeing things. “There’s an excellent Thai restaurant around the corner. I’ll order from them.” I opened the app and ordered the salmon dish for him and some drunken noodles for me. Speaking of drunken. “I have some beer or wine.”
“Oh, a beer would be awesome.” He offered a broad smile.
“Okay.” I strolled into my kitchen, opened my refrigerator and grabbed two canned beers.
Taking a calming breath, I brought them to the couch and dropped in beside him.
“Here.” I handed him a beer and snicked one open for myself.
I glanced at him, his muscles pulling his t-shirt tight across his chest and shoulders and his thigh muscles thick inside his jeans.
My cock woke. He was gorgeous. How the hell was he here in my apartment?
I should pinch myself. Did I pass out on the way home?
“What are you thinking?” He sipped his beer and arched a brow.
“I’m a little surprised you’re sitting here with me.” Might as well tell him the truth. I drank the beer, the cool bubbles calming the fluttering of my insides.
He inched closer to me. “I’m not a stalker or anything, okay? I don’t normally do shit like this.” He fingered the pull tab on his can. “My conscience wouldn’t allow me to go home and leave you with him.”
“You didn’t, uh…” I furrowed my brows. “Wait around the studio for me to leave, did you?”
“I did.” With a soft snicker, he rubbed his brows. “I found shit to do, but kept an eye on the studio and saw when Tate left.” His cheeks pinked. “I peeked inside the door to be sure you were okay. You were working at your desk.”
I widened my eyes. “I didn’t even notice.” I scratched the back of my head. “I get lost in my work sometimes.” And I’d kept thinking about the scene in the coffee shop.
“Listen, I know you said you didn’t need help. But I searched Google while I waited for you and…” He rocked once. “I’m going to help you.” He pressed his lips together. “He’s already hit you once. Guys like that only get worse.”
My stomach knotted, and I hung my head. Softly, I said, “I know.” Why did this hockey player, with so much going for him, want to help me? My gaze found his. “I really appreciate your offer, but—”
“No buts.” He grabbed my free hand. “I’m here for you.”
A knock filled the apartment.
“Oh, that must be our food.” Because Tate wouldn’t have knocked. As he freed my hand, I stood and swung the door open. Our bag of food sat on the entry.
“Let me help you with that.” Lucas stepped from behind me, picked up the bag and brought it to the dinette. “Grab some plates.” He pulled food containers from the bag.
“Sure.” Entering the kitchen, I took plates from an upper cabinet and silverware from a drawer.
“This looks delicious.” He strode to the main room, retrieved our beers from the coffee table and set them on the dinette.
After setting the plates and silverware down, I dropped into the chair next to his and plated my food. I watched him put rice and salmon on his plate. I barely knew him, yet he was so willing to disrupt his life for me. “Tell me more about yourself.”
He smirked. “I’m a hockey player, I’m from Connecticut and I’m from a hockey family.” He cut some salmon and stuffed it into his mouth. “Damn, that’s good.” He nodded.
“I already know that.” Well, most of it. I dipped my fork in my noodles and chicken and took a bite. It was spicy, but the coconut cut it down a notch.