14. Lars
I knock once on Neomi’s door. Through the peephole, I see a shadow move before the door opens.
She stands on the other side with her shoulders squared and her spine straight. Her hair is loose, makeup gone, her expression sharp, eyes sweeping over me in a quick assessment that tells me she’s alert. If something shook her tonight, she’s trying to keep it locked down.
“You didn’t have to come,” she says.
“I know,” I answer.
She studies me for a beat longer, then steps aside. I walk into her suite, and the door closes behind me. The space is quiet as she moves toward the window instead of sitting, crossing her arms as she looks out at the city lights below.
“I’m fine,” she says preemptively. “Nothing happened.”
I don’t challenge her or rush to fill the space. I step closer instead, stopping a few feet behind her.
“Tell me everything you saw,” I say.
She exhales slowly. “Someone followed me. Or it felt like they did. It could’ve just been my imagination.”
“They wanted you to know they were there,” I say.
She glances over her shoulder. “Why do you say that?”
“Trust your instincts. They stuck around long enough for you to know what they were wearing. You’re an intelligent woman; you know the difference between a threat and coincidence.”
She turns fully toward me then, her gaze still strong-willed, but then I see her shoulders lower. I close the remaining distance and pull her into my chest.
For a second, she stays rigid. Then her breath stutters, and her arms slide around my waist, fingers gripping the back of my shirt. Her forehead presses into my collarbone. I rest my chin lightly against her hair, my hand firm at the center of her back. She exhales, the tension draining out of her.
“I don’t need saving,” she murmurs.
“I know,” I say. “That’s not why I’m here.”
She tilts her head just enough to look up at me. Her eyes are softer now. “Then why?”
“Because you called.” I exhale and let the truth slip from my lips. “Because when I heard your voice, all I wanted was to have you in my arms.”
Her grip tightens, as if the truth of my words caught her off guard. After a moment, she steps back and clears her throat, collecting herself with the same discipline she had when I walked in.
“You could stay,” she offers.
I don’t do this. I don’t slide into someone’s space because they’re shaken and let instinct override caution.
Comfort has never been my role, it’s a liability, a weakness I learned to cut out.
And yet, standing here with her, I feel the unfamiliar pull to shield, to give her something solid to lean against until the tremor fades.
It unsettles me more than the thought of the danger she faced.
Wanting her close like this isn’t about sex or possession; it’s about something more dangerous.
Memories of how easily trust once blurred my judgment surface in my mind, how caring became leverage in the wrong hands.
I should step back. I should keep the line cleanly drawn.
Instead, I stay where I am, because whatever this is between us, walking away from it feels worse than the risk it could bring.
I nod. “Okay.”
Neomi’s eyes meet mine and she smiles as she walks to the dresser, kicking off her shoes. I slowly unbutton my shirt as I watch her undress. She changes into a black silk slip, and I have to look away before my cock gets other ideas. I remind my dick that she needs comfort, not sex right now.
I strip down out of my shirt and jeans, to only my boxer briefs, setting my holster on the nightstand. This time I don’t have to tell her to move over, she does it on her own, and I lie down to face her. She curls into my chest and, fuck, she feels so good, fitting perfectly against me.
I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close. She exhales, and her hand settles on my chest, fingers warm.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “For coming.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I reply.
“I know,” she says. “I want to anyway.” She shifts her head back on the pillow to look at me. “I don’t usually trust people, I don’t call anyone when I’m unsettled. My profession has me traveling constantly, I don’t—”
I run my fingers through her hair to quiet her. “It’s okay, Bella. This doesn’t have to have some deep meaning. You called me, I’m here, we can leave it at that.”
I reach over her body to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. Maybe the darkness will quiet the truth we’re both trying to ignore.
I haven’t felt like this in a long time.
Not since Leilani. Not since I learned the hard way that affection can be a weapon if you offer it to the wrong person.
I had loved her—fully and recklessly. I trusted her and let her close enough to hear things she should never have known.
She used every scrap of it to climb, to bargain and to gain power using my family’s name.
When the truth surfaced, it didn’t just hurt. It changed me.
I told myself I’d never let that happen again.
But tonight, holding Neomi while she falls asleep, it feels like my body has already decided she matters more than my caution ever will. The fear isn’t that she’s traitorous or calculating. The fear is that she isn’t—and that still won’t stop the fallout if I get too attached.
She shifts, nestling closer, pressing more firmly into my chest. As her breathing calms, anger simmers inside me, knowing someone followed her.
In my mind, I make a note to assign a detail to her.
No one will get that close to her again.
I look down, my fingers sweeping through her soft hair and I feel the need to keep her safe—and to make her mine.
I adjust the blanket around her shoulders and stare into the dark.
After a few quiet minutes, her voice drifts back. “Lars?”
“Yes?”
She turns her head just enough to look at me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
She hesitates, then asks, “What do you do? Like for work.”
“Security.”
The answer leaves me quickly. It’s what I tell everyone, and it’s not far from the truth, but with her, I know it’s a complete lie.
She studies me in the low light, then nods once, as if filing that answer away. I take a breath.
“Neomi,” I whisper.
“Yes?”
“I want to take you out.”
She stiffens slightly. “I don’t date.”
A corner of my mouth lifts. “Neither do I.”
She shifts. “But you want to take me on a date?”
“I’m only asking for dinner,” I say. “We could just call it spending an evening together.”
She laughs. “And where would you take me?”
I don’t hesitate. “I know where we can get a good steak.”
“Okay,” she says after a moment. “One dinner.”
I pull her back against me. “Tomorrow, then.” I kiss her hair. “Get some sleep, Bella.”
She relaxes fully this time, her breathing evening out as sleep claims her. I struggle to quiet my thoughts because I know I’ve already crossed a line I shouldn’t have.