Page 19

NINETEEN

SAVANNAH

IT TAKES A second for the woman’s words to register, but when they do, my stomach becomes an Olympic gymnast. It doesn’t just somersault, that thing performs an entire floor exercise.

And it’s not because I’m upset.

“That can’t be right.” Zeke scowls at her. “We need two rooms.”

Her already strained expression tightens even more. “I’m so sorry, but we’re sold out. There’s an event?—”

“Hang on.” He pulls out his phone, dials a number, then presses it to his ear, looking half ready to murder someone—my guess is Isaac.

At one point in time, I might have taken his reaction the wrong way. Might have assumed Zeke’s upset was because the thought of sharing a room with me sounded awful to him.

But I don’t think that’s the case now. He’s upset because he thinks I’ll be upset. Zeke is many things—all of them appealing—but the one I like most is how determined he is to make sure I’m taken care of. That I feel safe and strong and powerful.

Even though it means he’s shooting eye daggers at the poor woman across from us over this accidental forced proximity.

“They’re telling me there’s only one room.” Zeke doesn’t even greet the person on the other end of the line. His eyes narrow as he listens, then his voice takes on a lethal edge when he says, “Why in the hell would you only book one room?”

I press one hand to my gold medal winning gut and give the woman at the counter a smile. “It’s fine.” I rest one hand on Zeke’s arm, resisting the urge to squeeze his bicep. “It’s fine.” I turn back to the woman checking us in. “What kind of room is it?”

“Two queens with an atrium view.” She rattles off the reservation details.

I continue smiling even though two beds are a little disappointing. “That sounds great.” I let Zeke continue ripping into whoever was supposed to book our hotel while I collect our keycards and the directions to our room. Once I have everything, I hook my arm through Zeke’s and drag him along with me.

He swings back to look behind us. “Where are we going?”

“To our room.” I hold up the envelope with the cards in it. “It’s got two beds. I think we’ll be fine.” And by fine , I mean struggling to remain composed knowing Zeke is right next to me all night.

“You can have the room. I’ll go find a chair or something.” Zeke’s scowl is even more pronounced than it was at the desk. I feel kind of bad for Isaac, because when we get back to Alaska, Zeke is going to give him hell.

“Absolutely not.” I practically drag him into the elevator. “We’re adults. I’m sure we will be just fine sharing a room.” There’s a perkiness in my voice I can’t control. It gives away my excitement over the whole situation, but luckily Zeke doesn’t seem to notice.

He’s too busy frowning. “I can stay at a different hotel.”

Maybe I’m not reading him as right as I thought I was. Maybe he genuinely doesn’t want to share a room with me, because he’s working really hard at finding an alternative.

“Is that really what you want to do?” The perkiness from earlier is replaced with hurt. Maybe a little offense.

And a lot of disappointment.

I was starting to think maybe Zeke genuinely enjoyed being around me the way I enjoy being around him. I thought any hesitancy he showed was due to his sense of honor and the respect he has for me. But maybe I’m wrong.

Zeke works his jaw from side to side, nostrils flaring. “No. What I wanted was for you to have your own space. Some fucking privacy.”

I relax a little, the excitement from earlier flaring back to life immediately. I was right. It’s not that Zeke doesn’t want to share a room with me. He wanted me to not have to share a room with him.

“Do you snore?” I stare at him, lifting my brows. “Talk in your sleep? Sleepwalk?”

“I don’t know what I do. I’m asleep.” A little of the way Zeke was when we first met creeps into his explanation. He’s a little more abrupt. More gruff. Grumpy.

And it makes me roll my eyes. “Even if you do, I’m sure it will be fine.” I turn to face the doors as we reach our floor. “I’ll just smash a pillow on your face until you quit.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh beside me as the elevator opens, and I smile to myself. I know Zeke thinks I’m delicate, and in a lot of ways I probably am. But I’m not fragile. I’m not going to break. If I was, it would have happened already. And, while I’m more cautious around men than I used to be, I’m not around him. Not even a little bit.

I follow the signs to our room, carrying my smaller bag as Zeke rolls both our suitcases behind him. When I reach the door, I hover the card over the keypad, wait for the lock to click open, and go inside.

“Holy crap.” I forget Zeke is behind me and let go of the door, going straight for the opposite side of the room. A small set of French doors lead out onto a freaking balcony that overlooks a giant atrium filled with tropical plants and waterfalls. It’s like being in a whole different world. I take a deep breath, sucking in the warm humid air as I close my eyes, letting the sound of rushing water soothe me.

“Do you like it?”

I smile, but don’t open my eyes. “I want to live here.”

“I don’t think full-time occupancy is an option, but I’m sure I could figure out a way for you to visit this place every now and then.” Zeke’s voice is low as it shifts from behind me to beside me. “Especially if Pierce ends up putting a second location in Nashville.”

That has my lids lifting, the wheels in my brain spinning as I look over the lush foliage. “Do you think he’ll need an office manager?”

Fairbanks has never felt like home, and maybe that’s because it’s not. Maybe no matter how much time and effort I put into decorating my house, it will never be what I want. What I need.

“You would move here?” Zeke studies me. “To Nashville?”

It’s cute that he clarified the city and not this specific hotel. “I don’t know. I was just thinking.” And now I can’t stop. Can’t get my brain to latch onto anything else.

Moving has much more appeal than I would have expected. I could choose a place I like. Have a fresh start. Find a house that is actually my style. But...

“Have you ever thought of leaving Alaska?” The question gives away a lot, but I think Zeke is pretty oblivious about certain things. Whether that’s by accident or willful blindness, I don’t know.

He slowly nods. “More than a few times, but I don’t know where I would go.” He rests one arm on the railing, taking a deep breath before offering the smallest peek into his life. “I don’t have any family, so it’s not like I could move closer to them. Work is all I’ve got, so leaving Alaska would mean leaving Alaskan Security—and everyone I know—to be alone.”

I chew my lower lip, wondering just how deep Zeke’s inability to consider what’s between us as anything more than friendship goes. Probably pretty darn deep, so I’m not afraid to ask, “What if Pierce opens an office here? Then you could move to Nashville too.”

Jamison and Sadie have been working hard to develop a new division of Alaskan Security. One that picks up where she left off when I was kidnapped, and will center on helping innocent people get away from dangerous situations and relationships. I know it’s only a matter of time before they’re moved to a different area, and I’m not sure if I would want to follow. Especially if they go to Florida.

I’m also not sure I want to stay in Alaska.

Zeke flashes me a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “And leave all the snow and cold behind?”

“If this trip has proven anything, it’s that there’s plenty of cold and snow to enjoy here.” I pull in another lungful of the warm air. “But I bet there’s way more warm weather here.”

“There’s way more warm weather just about everywhere.” Zeke goes quiet for a minute as he looks out over the lush green atrium. “Unfortunately, it’s not really up to me where I go. Pierce will send whoever he wants to send.”

I sigh, leaning down to rest my chin on my crossed arms. “I know, but it’s fun to think about escaping.” I don’t know I’m saying the word until I say it, but once it’s out of my mouth, I don’t take it back.

“Is that what leaving Alaska would be for you?” Zeke’s voice is soft. “An escape?”

“As much as I hate to say it, yeah. That’s kind of how it feels.” I let the admission settle for a second. “I don’t hate everything about it, but it’s not my home.” For so long, home was wherever Sadie was. We had what many people would probably call an unhealthy attachment. Something that went beyond sisterhood. Beyond being twins.

We’d survived together, and it bonded us.

Until we had to survive separately.

“I don’t know where my home is, but I know it’s not Alaska.” I straighten from the railing. “Just like I know I don’t want to teach anymore.”

“Sounds like you’re figuring things out.” Zeke studies me, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it.” I smile. “It’s nice to discover the year I spent hiding in my house wasn’t a complete waste.”

“Taking time to recover is never a waste.” Zeke’s voice has an odd edge to it. “The only way to the other side is always through. If you don’t let yourself process what happened, it’ll eat you alive.”

My eyes move over his face, taking in the collection of emotions warring across his expression. Some of them I recognize. Have seen many times from him. Like anger. Frustration.

But there’s one I’ve never seen. Grief. And I can’t pretend it’s not there. “What happened?”

Zeke’s hard gaze swings away from me, sweeping out across the scenic view. He’s silent, jaw clenched tight.

Maybe I’ve overstepped. Maybe Zeke is okay facing my demons, but his own are a different story. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

“There’s a reason I do what I do.” He pulls in a strained breath. “Her name was Kendra. We dated for about a year.”

A pang of something hot and sharp stabs through me at the way he says that other woman’s name. Guilt chases right behind it, making the sting of jealousy even more painful. “Was?”

Zeke nods. “Was.”

The pain in that single word makes my throat so tight it’s hard to breathe. Concern for Zeke shoves away the jealousy and pulls me to him. “What happened?”

Again, he goes quiet, but this time I see his silence for what it is. Preparation. A minute to brace for what he has to relive.

“She was out with her friends one night. There was a blocked-off street near where we lived that had a bunch of clubs and bars, and people would go and hop from place to place.” He stops and I wait, giving him all the time he needs.

After a few slow breaths, Zeke continues. “She got separated from her friends and—” His deep voice breaks.

“Someone found her.” I move closer, looping my arms around his waist, trying to offer comfort. “Someone who hurt her.” It’s an easy enough assumption to make. It’s a fear women face every time they leave their houses.

It’s what’s kept me in mine for so long.

Zeke nods and I squeeze him tighter. He clears his throat before saying, “She didn’t face it like you have. She just went on, trying to pretend it never happened.” His arms come around me, pulling me closer. “But she couldn’t outrun it. No matter how hard she tried.” His forehead drops to rest against mine. “And then she got tired and stopped trying.”

I swallow hard, fighting the ache attempting to make the action impossible. “Did she...” I don’t know how to ask. Don’t know if I should.

“She killed herself.”

Another stab bites through me, this one cut out of pain for a woman I’ll never know. A woman who felt what I’ve felt. Faced what I’ve faced.

And it was too much to bear.

I can see how it happened. Had more than a few days where life was too much and I just wanted it all to stop. I wanted to finally be able to forget what happened. But I couldn’t do that to Sadie. Couldn’t leave her with that kind of pain, feeling like she failed?—

Oh God.

The dinner I enjoyed so much creeps up, threatening to spill all over the beautiful balcony. The pain I felt for Kendra—the woman Zeke clearly loved—was nothing compared to the agony I’m facing now. “When did this happen?”

“Over a decade ago.”

A decade? A DECADE? He’s been suffering with this guilt for a decade?

“That’s why you help women.” I close my eyes, trying to steady my voice. “You want to save us the way you couldn’t save her.”

“No.” Zeke shakes his head, the movement rocking mine. “I know I can’t save you.” He leans back, one finger resting under my chin, lifting until I meet his gaze. “I’m just hoping I can help you save yourself.”