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He pulls me into his chest and just holds me. “Shhhh.”
I can stop, though. I am so grateful when I feel his hands pouring shampoo into my hair, then massaging my scalp with strong fingers. I put my head back when directed, and he rinses it all off, then adds the conditioner.
“That feels good,” I moan and keep my eyes closed. He scrubs the rest of my body and his before coming back to my hair to do a final rinse.
I am not ready to leave our steamy bubble when Zach turns the water off and opens the door to the shower stall. He grabs towels to dry us off, then leads us to his huge bed.
“Do you remember,” he murmurs once we are all situated, “that little bed I had in my apartment?”
“Mh-hm,” I hum in confirmation. I feel so tired right now, I don’t know if I can form coherent sentences.
“I used to worry so much about it,” he continues. “I wanted to take us somewhere with a big bed.” He runs his large hand up and down my back. “At the end, I thought I could make you stay if I had a big bed,” he laughs with sadness.
My head is resting on his shoulder, my eyes snapping open at his words.
“I never cared about the size of your bed, Zach.”
“No?” He pets my head with gentle strokes as he pushes the hair out of my face. “What about the apartment I was living in?”
“You had a great apartment,” I say in an indignant tone.
“I had money then, too, you know.” His comment is coming from seemingly out of nowhere. I never wondered about his financial status, then or now, although, it is obvious now that he is way better off than he was seven years ago.
“I never cared, Zach,” I whisper back.
“I know that,” his chest vibrates against my ear. “That’s been the most frustrating part of knowing you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I wish I had a better idea of where I stood with you. I feel like I’m always guessing,” he confesses. “I am a great businessman. I have great instincts. I make a lot of money based on that.”
“That’s really good, Zach,” I run my hand softly in circles on his bare chest.
“I always seem to be making the wrong decision when it comes to you,” he grumbles.
I don’t respond to his comment. My hand stops moving on him, and I pretend to be asleep. I let out a sigh of relief when I feel his chest moving in a steady pattern, signaling that he is out.
I hold my breath when I remove my head from the spot on his shoulder. Zach doesn’t move so I get braver and put some space between us.
The sound of rustling sheets echoes in the quiet room, making me nervous that I’m going to wake him up. I turn my back to him and just stare at the wall. I can’t sleep now. I don’t understand what’s happening between us. I am stressed to the max about it.
If Zach lets me go, I literally have nothing to fall back on. I have no doubt that my parents would take me in, but I refuse to go that route.
On the other hand, Zach just told me that he doesn’t think he can let me go. The most important question is whether I want to stay anymore. I can’t seem to make up my mind about it.
At the same time, I can’t imagine my life without Zach in it. How did I survive for seven years without him? Seven.
Another thought pops into my head. Where did he hear about me going out with Bran? That’s just so weird and out of the left field.
My hand automatically goes to my phone that Zach had the forethought of placing on the nightstand on my side of the bed. Without thinking, I open Instagram and pull up Bran’s social media page. He doesn’t have much on there. I make a mental note to mention that to him. If he wants to get some endorsements and make some money, he needs to put himself out there more.
I grin when I come across a couple of pictures of the two of us together. The first one is from when I went to a game. I told him I wanted seats close to the ice instead of the suite, so he hooked me up. Then, he went and scared the shit out of me during warmups when he slammed his body against the glass right in front of me and proceeded to slide down to the ground in one smooth and practiced move.
Another picture shows us at a fund raiser put out by the team. He needed to make an appearance, and he also needed a date to attend it with. He called me and told me I owed him, then sent me a dress in my size from one of the poshest shops on Fifth Avenue. It would’ve been a total Cinderella story had we been into each other at all.
I am jolted from the memory of that night when Zach turns on his side and pulls me into his body, practically trapping me in when he spoons me from behind.
“What are you doing?” he murmurs in a sleepy voice.
