Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
SIGNE
I finally felt ready to come out of my cave of self-pity. Twenty-four hours seemed like a reasonable amount of time to wallow and grieve and mourn. To process whatever complex feelings I had that were no one’s fault but my own.
I had just brewed a cup of coffee and sat down at my laptop, ready to type out my resignation letter and email Michelle and Layla gently explaining what a fucking creep I am, and to ask if there was still time to completely alter my main male character’s appearance.
Instead, when I finally retrieved my phone from its place charging in my nightstand drawer, I noticed that it was flooded with social media notifications. As well as several missed calls and messages from Michelle. Probably to inform me of more rejections, which I just wasn’t in the headspace to read at the moment.
I took the opportunity given to me to delay confessing my sins to Michelle and Layla, and instead skimmed all the likes and comments I had gotten on my social media account in the past day or so.
What I was surprised to find all the likes and comments linking to, however, was a video that showed Zaid’s face.
I double-checked the account that the video was posted on, and I was immediately confused when I realized it was my account that had his face. His face, sitting in his nerdy-ass Marvel-themed bedroom.
I felt my stomach drop, wondering if I had been hacked by a fan who had stolen footage of Zaid. Great , I thought to myself, yet another reminder that my actions have consequences .
I tapped on the video because I hated myself.
Zaid cleared his throat, propping the phone up on his desk. He leaned back, his dark eyes darting between the image of himself and the camera at the top of his phone before he pulled his glasses off and rubbed the inside corners of his eyes with his fingers.
“For the love of god,” Zaid spoke behind his hand that lingered on the bridge of his nose, “Signe. Change your fucking password.”
I felt my heart stop as I tapped the screen to pause it, my coffee that I was sipping went down the wrong pipe and I choked for a couple of seconds before I set the mug down and restarted the video.
Holy shit.
Zaid was talking to me ?
On my account ?
I hesitated for another moment before tapping the screen again, resuming the video.
“Or, better yet,” Zaid shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips as the man struggled with looking at the screen versus the camera, “Answer your phone so I don’t need to get your attention like this.” He eventually settled his gaze on the camera, and it felt like he was staring directly into my soul. Those dark, beautiful eyes that I thought I wouldn’t have the privilege of admiring again, made my heart skip a beat through the phone screen.
“Signe,” he shook his head once, tsking his tongue, “I know you’re upset. I know you’re probably a little embarrassed,” he sighed as he settled more comfortably in his seat, resting his forearms on the desk in front of him, “But I need you to talk to me. And this is me desperately coming up with a last resort.”
I was holding my breath, and it wasn’t until I started to feel a little dizzy that I forced myself to inhale and exhale like a normal person.
“I know you told Jacqueline you quit,” Zaid shook his head once, “I know you probably think I have no interest in you after learning about your book.” He let that sentence hang there a second, gnawing on his lip once as he looked contemplative about what he wanted to say next, before soldiering on, “But I am. I am still in this, Signe. I’m all in.” He chuckled at himself, looking a little sheepish as he smirked at the camera, “And I’ve known about your book for a while.”
I felt my heart drop.
He what ?
“I knew the day that I intentionally walked through your live stream—” intentionally ? “—and I’ve been very aware of your publishing journey since then. I stayed updated on your posts. I deep-dived everything that you wrote publicly about this story, about the characters. About me…because I love you.”
I squeaked and threw my phone to the opposite end of the couch.
My blood was rushing in my ears, and butterflies erupted in my chest and stomach.
He what ?
I crawled like a crazed woman across the couch to retrieve my phone and continue watching, “You weren’t the only one keeping secrets, Signe.” Zaid glanced to the side for a moment, before focusing back on the camera, “I knew I was good at hiding my attraction to you. I bent over backward to avoid looking at you for too long,” I felt a flattered blush stain my cheeks, all those instances where he broke eye contact first playing in my mind, “Because I was your superior, and that would be wrong. So, I avoided you. Like I knew I should…but then you wrote a book about me—well—about a man that looks an awful lot like me.” He smiled as he pulled up his iPad to show the infamous character art of himself, zooming in on the veins the artist illustrated, making me want to crawl into a hole to escape the cringe of it all, “And as I sat there, listening to my sisters who have been followers of yours for a while now, filling me in on the fact that their brother was the inspiration behind a very popular story rising in online romance communities, I realized…I don’t know, I thought maybe I had a chance. That maybe my attraction wasn’t so one-sided after all.” He shrugged casually as he set the iPad down and returned his gaze to the camera, making my breath catch in my throat.
“I tried to take a page from Zayne’s, or I guess your, book,” his expression turned a little self-deprecating, “I tried to put myself out there with you a little more. Baby steps. I wasn’t trying to change who I was just to get your attention,” he huffed a laugh, “I just tried to show little pieces of myself to you here and there, wondering if you’d like what you saw. Because the reality was, Signe, that even though I had been avoiding interacting with you in the workplace due to my inappropriate crush, I couldn’t stop myself from constantly seeking you out.”
I squeaked again, noticing that at some point my hand had come up to cover my mouth in shock at what I was watching.
“Any time you entered a room, any time you laughed, any time you made someone else in the office laugh, I noticed you. I noticed everything about you. How could I not? I had no choice in the matter. Falling for you, even when I tried so desperately to fall for you correctly , had always been out of my control. I had given up on trying to contain my feelings a while ago. I think,” he made a comical expression as he rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully and stared off to the side, “I had completely relinquished control of my heart the moment you grabbed my face and kissed me as if your life depended on it.”
I huffed a laugh to myself, both humiliated and enthralled at what I was watching.
“I’m going to assume that no man would stand a chance against that,” Zaid chuckled again, embarrassment coating his features before he gathered himself, “Look…I know we probably shouldn’t be together.” I felt my heart sink at his words, “I know that it will always be frowned upon for someone in my position to be with someone in yours.” I frowned, hating that he was right, “I have thought a lot about this the last day or so, in between desperately begging for you to answer your phone .”
He held my stare through the camera, and I removed my hand from my mouth in surprise, “Jacqueline said that your job is still yours if you want it. That if you wanted to come back to work, you could. You could still have a steady paycheck and finish your book—keeping the male lead exactly as he looks in that beautiful head of yours—and quit later on when you settle into this career.”
I was smiling, warmth filling my chest.
“And I will quit now, instead.”
Wait, what ?
“Because I am privileged to be in a position like mine at the age that I am. I can find work anywhere. My skillset gives me job security no matter where I go.”
What? Zaid, no .
“I will admit,” Zaid held a finger up as he chuckled to himself in his nerdy bedroom, “Part of me is willing to quit just so Jacqueline’s eye doesn’t twitch the entire time we are both working together… However,” Zaid cleared his throat, “You know I’m not happy in a managerial position like this. Hell, everyone we work with knows. So, if quitting my job makes me get out of my own rut and pursue something that brings me more fulfillment, and I get to be with you on top of that? Well, that’s a no-brainer.” Zaid shrugged, smiling at the camera.
I was so in love with Zaid it wasn’t even funny.
I was sitting up on my couch now, my phone with his video posted to my account still playing while I glanced around my apartment, getting ready to go find him, “So, let me know if this sounds good to you, or if I just publicly humiliated myself on the internet in front of your entire fanbase for no reason. No pressure either way.” His smirk made me pause my frantic pacing around my apartment in search of clean socks to smile back.
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you. But, Signe, in case it wasn’t clear,” Zaid leaned forward as if he was about to tell a secret, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I found myself whispering back. Zaid hesitated for a moment before shaking his head to himself once and reaching forward to end the video. The fact that he had hacked into my account to do so was of no concern to me while I closed out of the app and quickly found his contact to dial.
I meant to FaceTime him, but a traditional phone call was what came up. I ran with it.
“Signe?” Zaid’s voice sounding over the speaker of my phone sent butterflies through my veins.
“Where are you?” I finally shoved my feet into sneakers, with only one sock on one foot, before grabbing my hoodie and reaching for the door.
Zaid inhaled a breath, “Where are you?”
“My apartment, but I’m coming to you—”
“Let me come to you.” Zaid cut me off, and I froze, halfway out the door with my hand on the knob. My hoodie slung over my arm. I didn’t even close the door behind me yet.
“But—I’m walking out of the door now.”
“Well, I’m walking up your staircase now,” Zaid countered. I heard the exterior building door shut below, and I gasped as I ran to the staircase to look down two floors. As soon as Zaid stepped into view, holding his phone to his ear as he smiled up at me, I squealed.
“Fine!” I grinned as he started ascending the stairs, the same moment I glanced down at myself and noticed that I was wearing the same sweatpants and t-shirt with holes in the armpit that I put on last night.
Frick .
I raced back to my apartment, stepping out of my sneakers, and skidding to a halt before I entered the bathroom to backtrack and prop the door open with one of my shoes so Zaid could come inside.
“Signe?” Zaid asked, reminding me that he was still on the call.
“Come in! I’m just changing. Or showering. Or something,” I panicked. Glancing at myself in the bathroom mirror and cringing at the dark circles under my eyes and the unbrushed hair. The zit forming near my temple.
“Or something?” Zaid asked, his steps echoing through my open apartment door.
“I want to look cute!” I set the phone down and started yanking a hairbrush through my hair.
“Weren’t you just leaving to come find me?”
“I didn’t realize how…I looked,” I widened my eyes at myself in the mirror. Good job, Signe . Way to sell yourself to the equivalent of a sports-illustrated model .
“Signe,” Zaid’s voice was low, not quite a warning, but teasing enough to let me know my time was running out, “I’m coming in.”
“The shoe is propping the door open,” I admitted, taking my bottle of mouthwash, and swishing it around for a couple of useless seconds before spitting in the sink.
The sound of my front door creaking open made my pulse spike, adrenaline and excitement and a whole other mess of giddiness making my hands shake as I struggled to apply deodorant as quickly as humanly possible.
“Signe?” Zaid’s voice sounded in my living room, and I quickly tugged my shirt off to put a different, less-hole-y shirt on in its place. I was just grabbing a clean one when the bathroom door I had left cracked open, opened wider, revealing the man himself.
I was in my purple bra, a cream-colored shirt halfway up my arms before I lifted them to tug it over my head, my sweatpants hanging low on my hips, revealing the men’s boxers I bought for myself to wear. Half of my hair was brushed, and I thought I felt a drop of mouthwash drying on the side of my mouth.
And yet, the way Zaid’s eyes darkened as he stood in the bathroom doorway holding a pothos plant in one hand, his other gripping the doorknob after seeing me, made me feel like the most tempting thing alive.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
“Hi,” Zaid smiled, his eyes meeting mine after taking in, well, everything.
“I’m pulling myself together.”
“Okay.” He left the door open and leaned against the doorframe, his free hand going into the pocket of his slacks while he still held the little pothos plant in his other large palm.
“What’s that?” I asked, nodding towards the plant.
“It’s for you,” he gestured towards me with the pothos, reaching forward and setting it down on the countertop next to the sink, “Are you stuck?”
“Huh?”
“Your shirt,” He nodded towards my shirt around my arms, stepping closer.
“Oh,” I glanced down at my arms, still halfway shoved through the arm holes of the shirt that I hadn’t pulled over my head yet, “I—well—I was going to put it on.”
“You were?” Zaid’s low voice was teasing, making butterflies spread in my chest and throughout my body, his steps closing in on me in my tiny bathroom.
“Yup,” I nodded, still not moving to finish dressing myself.
“And yet,” Zaid stepped closer as he reached out with one hand to rest his index finger on the cream-colored shirt, gently tugging it off my arms, “You don’t seem like you want to.”
I swallowed around a dry but excited lump in my throat, “I’m distracted.”
“By?” Zaid asked, successfully tugging my shirt off my arms and holding the garment up with his index finger.
“You are standing in my bathroom,” I straightened a little bit and tried patting my hair down into place, “Bringing me plants, hacking into my social media—”
“I’d hardly call it hacking when you use the same password for everything,” he raised his eyebrows at me, scorn coloring his expression for a moment, “Something you told me yourself.”
“Yeah, well,” I lifted a shoulder, reaching forward and tugging my shirt off of his finger to toss it to the side, “It’s still taking advantage of my platform.”
“It’s almost as manipulative as writing a fictional character whose appearance looks an awful lot like someone you work with,” Zaid met my eyes, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “And trying to hide it from said someone.”
“Did you really know the entire time?” I felt nerves skitter in my belly, insecurity creeping in. Perhaps that was partly due to still being topless in my bathroom with Zaid Ansara.
“Ever since my sisters cornered me the night of your livestream and told me all about it,” Zaid smiled, stepping closer and taking my hand in his.
“And they knew the whole time?” I asked, my mind reeling, “When Salma came to your office? When I babysat—”
“The entire time,” Zaid’s gaze was bouncing between my eyes as he tugged my hand and guided us out of the bathroom, towards the couch, “They meddled a bit, trying to convince me that I needed help wooing you.”
I stopped in my tracks right as Zaid took a seat, tugging on my hand to get me to join him, “Wooing me?”
“Wooing you, courting you, charming you,” he tilted his head in mock contemplation, “Seducing you.” He tugged on my hand once more, firmer, making me stumble onto his lap on the couch. Before I could adjust, he wrapped both of his arms around my waist and held me tight as I awkwardly lay bent over his lap. He lowered his head to brush his lips against my ear as he said, “I needed all the help I could get, Signe.”
I felt shivers race down my spine as his breath fanned against the side of my neck. I squirmed, and he loosened his hold on me enough for me to turn around and seat myself properly on his lap, wrapping one of my arms around his shoulders.
“You aren’t upset?” I asked, tracing my fingers across his hairline on the back of his head.
“No,” he confirmed with a shake of his head, “I’m mostly annoyed that you ran away and ignored all my calls and texts.”
“I ignored everyone,” I ducked my gaze, staring at my hand that was tracing the shape of the tendons in his arm through his jacket sleeve, “I wasn’t ready to face your rejection.”
“I’m not rejecting you, Signe,” Zaid sighed, shrugging out of his jacket, and revealing a simple t-shirt underneath, “I am doing whatever the opposite of rejection is.” His large hands grabbed either side of my waist, his fingers splayed to hold as much of me as he could, “I’m claiming you.”
“Claiming me?” I snickered as I adjusted my side saddle position to swing one of my legs over his lap, straddling him and wrapping my hands behind his neck, “That sounds a little overbearing.”
“Declaring my intentions?” Zaid leaned forward, his gaze on my mouth, “I poured my heart out for you, Signe. And you have said very little in response to it.” He halted, his dark eyes lifting to meet mine. A spark of insecurity lit in them, and I reached forward to press my lips to the side of his mouth while he held perfectly still. His hands didn’t roam, they stayed put on my waist as I gently brushed my lips across his cheek, to the point of his jaw, up towards the shell of his ear.
“I love you,” I whispered, making him suck in a sharp inhale, “I’m so sorry that I plagiarized your appearance, but I’m not sorry that doing so gave you the confidence to talk to me. To expose pieces of yourself to me. To be my friend at work. To share your mom’s cooking with me. To share yourself with me…and to let me attack your handsome face that one night at the hotel.”
I could feel Zaid smile as he ducked his head into my shoulder, and I continued to leave featherlight kisses down his neck, “I love you, Zaid. Geeky-ass, Marvel-themed bedroom, and all.”
I squealed when his fingers on my waist immediately started tickling me, shifting so that he could let my back land on the couch cushions next to us.
“My decorating is still not nearly as embarrassing or cringeworthy as writing an entire romance novel about me,” Zaid grumbled in my neck, his tongue tickling me as well.
“So, what you’re saying is,” I grabbed his head and pulled him away from my neck so I could look at him, “We’re both equally embarrassing and there’s no reason to hold what I did over my head?”
Zaid’s eyes softened, his smile tugging his cheeks as he rested his forehead against mine, “I’m flattered, Signe,” Zaid pressed a kiss to my nose, “I wish you could hear what was going through my head at the time, learning that the woman I had been longing for at work had written erotica inspired by me.”
“It’s not erotica ,” I leaned back into the cushions to meet his eye again, “It’s just open-door, explicit romance with a man who looks a lot like you.”
“Remember the Halloween party, when you handed me your phone with smut on it—”
“Oh my god!” Humiliation washed over me, having perspective on the situation now. It was already mortifying to have Zaid read a smutty scene I had written; it created an entirely new level of humiliation knowing that he knew it was about him. I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment, “I’m the worst.”
“Stop it,” Zaid grasped my hands and pinned them on either side of my head, his body resting entirely on mine. His hips settled in between my legs, “I loved it.”
“Shut up,” I giggled as I playfully glared at him.
“I’m surprised you didn’t see the tent in my pants then, knowing that you wrote that. That you visualized me doing that.”
I smiled up at Zaid, loving how we were having this conversation with me pinned underneath him. One of his feet rested on the floor while the other leg was resting on the couch. Both of my legs folded up on either side of his hips.
“Well…” I smiled up at him, “We don’t have to just visualize it anymore.”
His chest expanded over me as he breathed, his smile slipping just a hint as a predatory gaze coated his features, “I don’t do casual, Signe.”
“I know, Zaid,” I bit my lip at him, loving the tension between us in this moment, “I’m very aware of what being with you like that means,” I inhaled a shaky breath, “I have no interest in anything casual either…I love you.”
A look of intense relief washed over his features as he huffed a breath of air across my neck, his smile reaching his eyes as he leaned down and kissed me hard.
My lips parted for him, getting lost for a moment in the feel of his mouth against mine before he pulled away from me just enough to say, “I’m always going to fight to keep you, Signe.”
“You don’t have to fight,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m with you of my own free will.”
“If I mess this up,” Zaid shook his head, “If I ever mess this up, promise me that you’ll try to help me fix it.” I could see his insecurity again, as he removed his grip on one of my hands to cup my face in his palm, “That even though it might be hard, or I might say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing…that you’ll still want to try to make it work. To make it right.”
“Zaid,” I turned my head to kiss his palm, my free hand coming up to grip the wrist, “I promise.” I squeezed his wrist for good measure, “I promise I’ll want to make it work. I haven’t felt this way about a man in, well, ever. I’ve never wanted to commit to someone so fully.” I smiled, “How can I make you understand? You’re it for me. It’s like you said, I’m all in.”
“All in?” Zaid repeated, his thumb stroking my cheek as he locked eyes with me.
“All in,” I smiled up at him, “Want me to prove it?” I reached up to peck him on the lips, “Want to run away to Vegas and elope?” He chuckled once before I gave him another quick kiss, “Want to have a traditional engagement and wedding instead?” I kissed him again, lingering only because he nipped my bottom lip back, “Want to knock me up?”
Zaid froze during our third kiss, making me stiffen in response.
Oh no, too far, Signe .
I collapsed back onto the couch cushions as Zaid’s lips parted and his dark eyes drank me in, “I know you’re joking,” Zaid breathed, “But I don’t think you understand how tempting it is to take you up on that offer.”
I bit my lip.
Holy shit .
Zaid did have baby fever.
“I knew it,” I whispered to him with a smirk, “You’re dying to be a dad.”
“I only want to be a dad if you want to be a mother,” Zaid shook his head once, his hips grinding a little in between mine, “Otherwise, I’m happy to just practice making kids for the rest of our lives.” He gave me a devilish smirk that made my heart skip a beat. When Zaid found his confidence and knew what he wanted, he was lethal. I was boneless against him. I melted, I swooned. I wanted nothing more than to be one of those heroines in historical romance novels who lay there and let themselves be ravished.
“Well…” I quirked my lips to the side as if I was considering something casually, “Why don’t we use condoms for the first while? Just to practice, to make sure we really get it right. Then, after some time, we can consider the idea of creating life a little more seriously.”
Zaid’s lips crashed down on me, and I had a feeling that we suddenly had more important things to do than discuss plans and commitments. Instead, we needed to focus on us.