Chapter 16
Sebastian
My silent phone taunts me as I glare at it, demanding it ping with a text from Lizzy letting me know she’s ready to run.
I’ve been ready for hours. The first thing I did after following her home was change into sweats.
I was tempted to shower again, just so I could continue smelling fresh, but three showers in one day seemed extreme.
Of course, I took one before she came over, and I’ll have to take another post-run.
My fingers twitch with the urge to text her first, but I don’t want to rush my angel. After all she’s done for me the past twenty-four hours, the last thing I would do is rush her.
The last quarter of bread calls to me. I wander over but settle for smelling the loaf. I’m saving the rest for after the run when she’s across town at the Coleman’s, and I’m here, away from her.
Resigned, I scoop up my phone and walk across the house to watch her from my office, when the cursed electronic finally pings.
Angel: I’m ready whenever you are!
I let out a sigh of relief as I pause halfway up the stairs to reply. I’m almost at my front door by the time it’s sent.
Me: I’m heading over now
She’s standing in her driveway, bent at the waist, touching her toes when I arrive. I slow to take in the view of her plump bottom waving in the air, beckoning me. My cock rises to attention, and I curse as I rearrange myself. I can’t scar her by being a horny man.
“Hey, ange– Lizzy,” I quickly correct myself. It’s too early for nicknames, right?
She pops up from her stretch and waves at me. “Hey, neighbor! I’m excited for our first run together. Well, you know what I mean.”
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that she knew I was following her. That she knew it was me. I thought I had been so covert.
“Me too,” I add absent-mindedly when I catch her staring at me with her head cocked. My attention is seized by her stretches, her tantalizing body in its tight workout garments moving lithely, begging for my notice, for my touch.
I try to fight it, try not to creep on her. But when she jumps from foot to foot doing high knees, the way her breasts bounce so beautifully has my control fraying at the edges.
It takes all my strength to turn away from her and pretend to stretch. In truth, I couldn’t name a single pre-run stretch at the moment. Her little grunts as she warms up conjure filthy fantasies that aren’t welcome at the moment.
“Ready?” A soft hand lands on my shoulder, and even through the fabric barrier, it sears into me. Fuck, her touch has what little blood was left in my head rushing to my groin. This is going to be a tortuous run, and yet, it’ll be the best one I’ve ever had.
“Yeah. You set the pace.” My voice is ragged in a way that has nothing to do with exercise, but she’s perfectly oblivious.
She nods and starts at her normal pace for our Saturday long runs. I pretend to be focused on the landscape I know by heart instead of the alluring angel by my side. Even her arm pumps with each step call out to me.
“So, you follow the Runner’s World marathon plan?” Not expecting her to talk, I trip slightly, but steady myself. I catch my glasses just in time. “Oh my. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. And yes, I follow their plan.” Of course, I follow the same plan as her. I’m the one who picked it for us after hours of research. It’s catered perfectly to her.
“That’s what I thought. We always have the same runs.
Crazy how that worked out. Was the plan all over your social media too?
” Speaking has her breathing heavily but not slowing down.
Not that I’d care if we were slowing down.
Running next to her, talking to her, this is what I fantasized about every time I ran behind her.
“I don’t have social media. But I did get an ad for it at some point.
They must have been marketing it hard.” Each lie is vitriol on my tongue.
I hate being dishonest with her, but how do I tell her that I’ve carefully curated every aspect of our runs.
Even if it’s in her best interest, there’s no way she won’t freak out. She just wouldn’t understand.
“Hmm. I really only have social media to follow the zoo’s accounts. They’ve posted a few videos of my shows with the animals. They’re embarrassing, but it’s cool to educate the masses. One video even went viral.” She throws her hands over her face in mortification.
“It was a great video. They’re not embarrassing.” My fervent words spill out without thinking. Those videos of her at the zoo educating children on the animals are captivating. I’ve watched each one dozens of times.
“You’ve seen them?” Her disbelief offends me.
“Yeah. I like the zoo, and when I recognized my neighbor, I was thoroughly impressed. I didn’t know Komodo Dragon females could reproduce through parthenogenesis. Or that Galapagos Tortoises helped inspire Darwin. It’s all very interesting. And the way you teach it… it’s captivating.”
She stops abruptly and turns on me. I freeze alongside her. “You’re being serious?”
“Of course, I am.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
My brows scrunch in confusion as I stare at her.
“Why would I think animals are weird? They’re majestic, and we as humans have much to learn from them.
I find your knowledge impressive and your intelligence beautiful.
There’s so much you can teach me, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than learning.
” I somehow make education sound sensual toward the end of my sentence, so I nudge her and start running.
“Oh,” is all she says. But I will note she’s rosier than when we stopped, so maybe she’s accepting my compliment. When her lips curl into a bashful smile, I know I’ve done my duty to eradicate any doubt she has about her passions.
“I have a confession,” Lizzy blurts out after a few more minutes of silence.
“What’s that?” I highly doubt Lizzy could tell me anything that I don’t already know about her.
“I’m way nerdier than just liking reptiles. I do puzzles constantly. And don’t get me started on Sudoku.” She sighs, then continues. “Most people don’t get it. I was called weird a lot growing up. And still do.”
“I get it.” When she looks doubtfully, I decide it’s time to boast. “I time myself doing puzzles and try to beat my previous times. When I’m bored, I go on Wikipedia and fact-check random pages, then correct them.
And I keep flashcards by my bedside to review before bed every night.
” I wince at the mention of my flashcards and pray she doesn’t ask what they’re of.
But she just breaks out into a blinding smile and nudges me with her shoulder.
“Sounds like we’re perfect together.” My heart stutters as my dreams come true. “I think you just became my best friend.”
Her words are a splash of cold water, freezing me to my bones. Best friend. I should be grateful. Any position in her life is an honor. But friend isn’t what I want. Isn’t what I need.
“Seems like it,” I grit out.
Maybe I can challenge her to a puzzle contest or a game of trivia to win her hand. Then she’d see how much I can offer her.
“We’re almost done. One more mile,” she pants out. She chugs some water then hands the bottle to me. As much as I crave to put my lips where hers just were, I maintain composure and waterfall it into my mouth. The respectable way to drink from a friend’s water bottle.
As we approach the entrance of the park, I see a figure standing on her front step. As I speed up, she slows.
“What–” she starts, but I put up my hand.
“Stay here. I’ll check it out.” I don’t wait for her reply. I’m crossing the street before she can try to follow me. I may have just finished fourteen miles, but I will always have enough strength to defend my woman.
“Can I help you?” I call out in a low voice as I approach the house. When the motherfucker turns around, I hiss out a curse. I fucking knew him knowing where she lives would be detrimental.
“You!” Chris Davis accuses me.
“Why are you here?” My voice isn’t as calm as I’d like, but I can barely manage to refrain from hitting him.
“None of your business. Where is Lizzy?” he demands.
“That’s not your concern.” I turn until I’m between him and the front door, so his back is to Lizzy.
“I need to talk to her about last night.”
Like fuck he does.
“No. You need to leave.”
“Listen, man. I know you think you’re tough shit, but we both know who’d win in a fight.” He cracks his neck to add to his ridiculous threat.
“I’m not going to fight you.” Even though I’d win. I’m trained in almost every martial art and can incapacitate a man in two maneuvers. But I can’t do that out here in front of my angel.
“Well, I’m not leaving without a fight.” He spits onto her doorstep like the degenerate he is.
“Chris John Davis. Social security number: six five four, zero five, six six two zero. Credit Score: six-hundred and seventy-four. Employment: Electrical Circuits. Gambling debt: twenty-three thousand four hundred seventy-one dollars and two cents. Marital status: divorced. Reason for divorce: domestic violence resulting in four hospital trips and a restraining order.” With each data point of his life, Chris becomes paler.
When I get to the divorce information, he reddens.
“How do you know that? Who the fuck are you?” he demands.
“You think anyone enters my angel’s house without my knowledge?
That someone can threaten her, and I’d let it go?
I haven’t had time to deal with you yet.
I don’t need to sully my fists with your diseased blood to hurt you.
Five minutes in front of my computer, and I’d have you bankrupt, homeless, and disgraced.
Do not test me.” I keep my face neutral as I deliver a real threat.
Lizzy’s in my line of sight over his shoulder watching the interaction.
I will not get my hands dirty in front of her.
“You’re fucking crazy. Does she know that you’re insane?” he hisses. He pushes a finger into my chest but isn’t strong enough to move me.
Before he can process what’s causing the blinding pain, I have his finger gripped in the Aikido yubi dori move. The pain so instant and sharp from the joint manipulation, Chris doesn’t even have the chance to yell out.
“She knows what she needs to know. And now you do too. You will not be able to contact her. None of your texts have gone through since Tuesday anyway. You will never see Lizzy again. If you attempt to, I will destroy you. Heed my warning.” I loosen my hold for a second, allowing his false reprieve, before instilling the move again.
“Leave and never come back. Hurt my girl again, and I’ll enjoy killing you.
I don’t take as much thrill in the kill as my brother, Roman Montclair, does, but we’re all Syndicate blood.
And killing for our women comes naturally.
” I don’t usually name drop, and those not in the underworld won’t recognize our name, but with Chris’s gambling debt, I know he’s heard of us.
His eyes widen like saucers as tears fill them. “I didn’t know she was yours, Mr. Montclair.”
“Get the fuck out of here. Don’t ever let me see your face again,” I snarl. I drop his filthy digit only for him to kiss it. Despicable.
He rushes back to his car, putting it in drive and speeding away before even buckling. His desperate escape calms me. But he’s not free from me. I’ll be reaching out to Pyotr to inform him that Chris Davis’s debt should be collected right after I drain his accounts.
When a familiar pattern of footsteps sound across the lawn, I straighten my expression, fix my features, and don the smile of a gentleman.
“What did he want?” Lizzy’s nose is scrunched as she points to where Chris just fled from.
“He was just apologizing from last night. I took the liberty of telling him to leave you alone. I hope that’s okay?”
“Thank you so much. I’m so glad you were here… again. You’re like my personal guardian angel.” Her eyes sparkle as she says it, then she surprises me by wrapping her arms around my torso.
I immediately fold into her embrace, scooping her into my chest. Her scent permeates through the air and into my nose.
I’m able to breathe her in, feeling her chest expand as mine does.
Sparks short circuit my brain. There’s no place I’d rather be.
Even her sweaty pheromones fill my head with impure thoughts.
Entirely too quickly, she drops her arms, ending the greatest moment of my life. Pulling back, she fidgets with her shirt stuck to her chest.
“Sorry about that. I’m sure I smell with how sweaty I am,” she chuckles.
“Nonsense,” I chide her. If it weren’t so peculiar, I’d ask her to give me a garment of her clothing to remember this moment by. Maybe I’ll sneak in tonight and take something. Perhaps a sock?
Wait, smelling foul from sweat? Do I reek? Surely, I do. I’m a man who just ran fourteen miles. And I had her face buried in my chest next to my armpit.
I need to get out of here, so she doesn’t have to endure my stink any longer.
“I had a great time. Maybe we can do Monday’s intervals together?” I slowly back away from her as I ask it, trying to get out of her smelling range.
“Sure. I’d love to!” She gives me one more radiant smile, then goes inside.
And I’m left on her doorstep, awestruck.