Chapter 23 Zahara
ZAHARA
I sat at my vanity, mascara wand trembling in my hand like I was about to perform surgery instead of just putting on makeup for a man I had no business wanting.
The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked good—I’d give myself that.
Dark jeans that hugged my hips and thighs in a way that made me feel like I still had it.
A terracotta-colored sweater that clung to my breasts and dipped just low enough to show a hint of cleavage without screaming “I’m trying too hard.
” My hair was down, falling in soft waves around my shoulders instead of pulled back in the tired ponytail I wore to work.
I looked like a woman going on a date.
But this wasn’t a date. It was a thank you. That’s all. A simple dinner to show appreciation for the catering hookup that could change my whole life. Professional. Polite. Nothing more.
So why were my hands shaking?
Why had I changed outfits three times before settling on this one?
Why had I shaved places that hadn’t seen a razor in months?
Stop it, I told myself firmly. This is business. You’re thanking him for the recommendation. That’s it.
But my body wasn’t listening to my brain. My pulse was racing. My skin felt too warm. And every time I thought about Prime and those blue eyes, that dangerous smile, the way his body had felt on top of mine when that car almost killed us, heat pooled low between my thighs.
I didn’t want to want him. Wanting led to questions. Questions led to exposure. Exposure led to everything falling apart.
I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not when I was finally building something. Not when Yusef needed stability.
Not when men like Prime—dangerous, complicated, covered in tattoos and secrets—never stayed. They took what they wanted and left wreckage behind.
I’d seen it with my father and his wives. Watched him collect women like trophies, promise them the world, then move on to the next conquest when he got bored. I’d watched my mother break herself trying to be enough for a man who would never be satisfied with just one.
I wasn’t doing that. I wasn’t breaking myself for anyone.
This was just dinner. Just a thank you. Nothing more.
I applied the mascara more precise than usual, trying to convince myself I believed my own lies.
“Z!” Yusef’s voice called from the living room, pulling me out of my spiral. “You almost ready?”
“Almost!” I called back, setting down the mascara.
The piano music stopped. I heard his footsteps padding down the hallway, then a soft knock on my bedroom door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, come in, baby.”
The door opened and there he was—my whole reason for breathing. His face still showed those fading bruises, ugly reminders of what happened when I couldn’t protect him. But his smile was real. Bright. The first genuine smile I’d seen from him in weeks.
He leaned against the doorframe, taking me in with those observant eyes that missed nothing.
“You look really nice,” he said softly.
Something in his tone made my chest tighten. There was approval there. Hope. Like he wanted this for me.
“Thank you, baby.”
“So, what time does he get here?” He couldn’t hide his excitement. His whole body practically vibrated with it. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want him getting too close to someone who might not be in his life for long.
“Yeah. Should be here in about thirty minutes.” I reached for my lipstick—a deep berry color I’d impulse-bought two years ago when I still believed I might have a life beyond work and survival. I’d worn it exactly twice.
Tonight would be the third.
“I can’t wait for him to teach me boxing!” Yusef pushed off the doorframe, his energy shifting into something almost manic. “When do you think we can start? Tomorrow? This weekend? I’ve been watching videos online about footwork and—”
“Yu.” I cut him off gently, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I know I said yes, but I’m still on the fence.”
His face fell like I’d physically struck him. “What? But you said—”
“I need more time.” I applied the lipstick slowly, giving myself time to find the right words. “I’m still not sure about him.”
“Why not?” Frustration bled into his voice.
“He’s been nothing but good to us. He brought groceries when we needed them.
He saved you at the farmers market. He got you that huge catering job.
” Yusef crossed his arms, looking older than twelve.
“And he’s the only person who’s offered to teach me how to protect myself. I like him, a lot.”
God, he was right. I knew he was right. But knowing didn’t make the fear go away.
“I know it does, baby. I just…” I pressed my lips together, blotting the color. Stalling. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this dinner.”
“Because you like him.” Yusef said it like it was the simplest truth in the world. No judgment. Just fact.
“I don’t—” I started to protest, but the look he gave me stopped the words in my throat.
“Yeah, come on. You think I don’t notice? You’ve been checking your phone all day. You changed clothes like five times. You’re wearing lipstick.” He gestured at me. “You never wear lipstick.”
Damn. When did he get so observant? So perceptive?
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I said, but even I could hear how weak it sounded. “I’m just being polite. Professional. He helped me out with a business opportunity. This is me saying thank you. That’s all.”
“If you say so.” But his small smile said he knew better.
I turned on my vanity stool to face him directly. “Yu, listen to me. I know you like Prime. I know you’re excited about the boxing lessons. But I need to be careful. We need to be careful. We can’t just let people into our lives without—”
“Without what? Without knowing if they’re safe?” His voice dropped lower. “Nobody’s completely safe. But Prime… he’s different. I can feel it. Can’t you?”
Yes. God, yes, I could feel it. That was the problem.
I could feel it in the way my body responded when he was near—pulse racing, skin tingling, every nerve ending coming alive like I’d been sleepwalking through my life and he was the alarm clock.
I could feel it in the way he looked at me—not like I was a conquest or a challenge, but like I was something precious. Something worth protecting. Worth knowing.
I could feel it in the groceries he left without asking for thanks. In the way he’s been pressing to teach Yusef to box without making him feel weak. In how he’d thrown his body over mine when that car came barreling through the market without a second’s hesitation.
I felt it in my bones, in my blood, in places I’d kept locked down so long I’d forgotten they existed.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
“It’s complicated, baby,” I said finally.
“Everything’s complicated with you.” He wasn’t being mean. Just honest. “You never let anybody in. You never let anybody help. You just keep running and hiding and pretending we’re fine when we’re not.”
His words hit like a physical blow. Because he was right. We weren’t fine. We were surviving, barely, and I was so tired of just surviving.
“I’m trying to keep us safe,” I said quietly.
“I know. But maybe…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe being safe isn’t the same as being happy. And maybe Prime could be both.”
The knock at the door came exactly thirty minutes later. Prime was nothing if not punctual.
My heart kicked into overdrive. I stood from the vanity, smoothing my sweater down even though it didn’t need smoothing, checking my reflection one more time even though I’d already checked it five times.
“I got it!” Yusef was already halfway to the door before I could stop him.
“Yu, wait—”
Too late. He swung the door open, and there Prime was.
Jesus.
His masculine presence filled the doorway—all six-foot-something of tattooed muscle wrapped in luxury. He sported a black cashmere sweater, a pair of Japanese denim jeans, and a VVS Cuban chain hung around his neck.
His eyes found mine immediately, and the heat in them made my knees weak.
“Goddess,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed my purse, needing something to do with my hands. “You clean up nice yourself.”
“Prime!” Yusef was practically bouncing. “So when do we start? The boxing lessons?”
Prime’s attention shifted to Yusef, and his whole demeanor softened. “How about after school tomorrow? I can pick you up, take you to the gym I use.”
“For real?” Yusef’s eyes went wide.
“For real.”
“Yes!” Yusef stuck out his hand for a dap, and Prime met it, pulling him in for a quick shoulder bump that made my son grin so hard I thought his face might crack.
This man was going to ruin me.
“You gonna be good while we’re out?” Prime asked him.
“Yeah. I’m just gonna practice and do homework.”
“Good man.” Prime looked back at me. “You ready?”
No. Not even close. But I nodded anyway.
The restaurant was upscale. The last time I ate at a place like this was when I was living in Cali, back when the job I had placed me around high rollers.
But these days, if I ate out, it was at a fast food or chain restaurant.
This restaurant was one of those expensive places that didn’t even list the prices on the menu.
I felt out of place immediately.
“Prime, this is too much,” I said as the hostess led us to a private corner booth.
“It’s not enough.” He waited for me to slide in, then sat next to me. Close enough that his leg brushed mine under the table. “You deserve this. More than this. Shit, let something good happen to you.”
I didn’t know what to do with that statement, so I buried myself in the menu.
The first ten minutes were awkward. Stilted. I kept my answers short, my body language closed off. Every time he asked a question, I deflected. Every time he got too close to something real, I changed the subject.
I was being cold and I knew it. But cold was safe. Cold kept walls up. Cold meant I wouldn’t get hurt.
Prime finally set down his menu and leaned back, studying me with those impossibly blue eyes.