Chapter 20

GRIFFITH

After the stress of the awards ceremony last night, Zainab and I give each other some space—as much as you can when you live in an apartment together.

She has holed herself away in her office with a manuscript she’s trying to finalize. I don’t know much about it, and I make a mental note to ask her when we’re together next.

I wanted space. I told her as much, yet I have spent all morning wishing I was with her.

Even now, sitting on my bed with my laptop, meeting with my therapist, my heartbeat quickens at the thought of there being an ~us~. That’s something I would never have considered possible before we finally gave into each other.

“Tell me what you are most worried about.”

My therapist always does this, goes straight for the throat. I like her bluntness though; she knows she can be upfront with me.

“That it won’t work out and I will lose her.”

“Lose her, how? As in, she will leave your life?”

“Exactly.”

Silence drags on. It is clear that my therapist expects me to keep talking. If she doesn’t think I’m done, then I’m probably not.

“The only two people I have loved were my grandparents, and they’re gone. It’s taken me years, but I finally recovered from their deaths,” I admit, finding it easier to say the words now that I’m looking away from the camera. “I’m not over it, obviously. The pain is still there, but I am in a better place.”

My therapist doesn’t say anything. She just sits back and lets me speak.

“Coming here was such a good opportunity. I was stuck in Baltimore, living the same day over and over again, kind of sleepwalking through my life. This has been a fresh start. I never expected anything to form between Zainab and me. This has been completely out of left field.”

“Why did you not expect anything?” she asks curiously.

“I just mean I didn’t expect to find my client attractive or for there to be a spark between us. I’ve found women attractive before, obviously, but I’ve never felt any desire to form a long-term connection.”

“And you feel that with Zainab.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and quickly open them again. I force my gaze back to the screen long enough to nod at her and then look away, staring at the bookcase.

“I want to be with her. After spending all this time getting to know her, she’s made me feel things I haven’t felt in years—or ever before. I don’t want to lose that.”

“And you’re worried that you might lose your job, lose her, if you cross that line with your client?”

“The line has already been crossed,” I confess.

“And?”

“And yes, her father finding out is one of my concerns. He would one hundred percent fire me.”

“Does that mean you would lose Zainab?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Could you get another job?”

“Not without his recommendation… He might even get me blacklisted. Mr. Quadir is extremely protective of his daughter.” I rub my jaw and scowl. “He’s going to think I took advantage of her.”

“What about Zainab and her brother? Surely their words hold some weight. Could they not defend you to their father?”

I shake my head. “They could, but he’s pretty stubborn. Once his mind is set on something, he doesn’t change it.”

“Could Zainab or her brother write you a recommendation instead?”

I consider the idea and shake my head again.

“Their words wouldn’t hold as much weight. Mr. Quadir is influential. If he wants me out, I’m out.”

She purses her lips. “Let’s circle back to why you are worried about losing her. Other than being fired, what do you think will make you lose her?”

“She might change her mind,” I admit in a small voice.

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve been rejected a lot. I lost my whole family. I’m scared that either she will change her mind about me, about us, and break things off, or something might happen to her. She has a security team for a reason.”

“You know this already, Jake, but you cannot go through life being scared of every possible circumstance. Every time you get behind a wheel, there is a good chance that you’ll get in a car accident. That doesn’t stop millions of people from doing it every day. We cannot live our lives in fear.”

“I know.”

“Tell me more about Zainab. How does she make you feel?”

“Like I don’t have to prove myself, like I’m enough.”

I think about it for a long moment. She waits for me to find the words.

“She feels like home.”

Her eyes soften, and she smiles. “You should tell her that.” Her expression then turns serious, and she adds, “You may not like it, but I would like to offer a piece of advice.”

“Go on.”

“I think you should take a step back. If you want to pursue a romantic relationship with Zainab, I do not think it’s wise for you to continue being her bodyguard. Your feelings for her may cloud your judgment.”

A heavy weight settles in my stomach. I thought this, too, particularly during the chaos of the crowd last night.

I am usually calm in those situations, but when I looked over and saw Zainab missing, my heart stopped. I felt sick. I couldn’t think, and that’s dangerous in my line of work.

Perhaps it is a good idea that I step back a bit.

ZAINAB

I turned on the white noise machine in my office while Griffith had his therapy session; it seemed like the right thing to do. I wanted him to know that there was no way I was listening in.

~Although I wish I had been.~

~Or do I?~

Sometimes, it’s better not to know what someone says about you behind your back.

It’s past six, and I’m still hiding in my office. Griff offered to make dinner for us, and he seemed like he wanted to do it by himself, so I left him to it.

My hope is that he will have collected his thoughts by the time we’ve eaten so that I can have an idea about where or how this is going to go. I need to know if I should get my hopes up or prepare for my heart to be trodden on.

My therapy session felt good in the sense that I was able to share my worries with someone else. My doctor listened and nodded empathetically as I explained how nervous I was about Griff’s decision.

It might sound dramatic, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had these kinds of feelings for someone.

And I have never, and I mean ~never~, gone after a guy before. I have never been the one to do the chasing, the one to make the first move and be vulnerable. That was terrifying, and I never want to do it again.

The only problem is I don’t know how Griff is going to take it when I tell him the conclusion my therapist and I came to.

There’s a soft knock on my office door. A moment later, it opens.

Griff stands there, looking handsome as hell in a gray hoodie and black joggers. His feet are bare, and there’s something oddly attractive about that.

~I don’t even like feet.~

“Dinner is ready if you want to come eat,” he says.

Our eyes meet for the longest moment. I put down my manuscript—not that I was making any progress—and get to my feet.

“Sure. Thank you.”

I follow him to the kitchen. He’s made some kind of chowder, and it smells great.

There’s a comfortable but heavy silence between us as we eat. I feel like we’ve gone back to the beginning, where he only said one or two words at a time.

“This is delicious, thank you.”

“Glad you like it,” he grunts. I start to worry again that he isn’t going to say anything more, but he continues, “I made extra. It’s in the fridge in case you want to take it to work on Monday.”

~Now that’s sweet.~

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

It drags on like this until we’ve eaten everything. Griff puts on the radio as we clean up, preventing conversation.

My heart feels heavy with dread by the time we go to the living room. There’s no way he’d be acting like this if it were good news. He’s trying to put distance between us because he’s going to let me down easy.

I take a deep breath and sit on the sofa opposite him, mentally preparing myself for rejection. This isn’t going to be fun, but I can handle it.

There has only been one night between us, and we didn’t even go all the way. We can still come back from this. He can be my bodyguard, and we keep things professional between us.

~I can get over this. I can get over him. We’ve barely started.~

At least that’s what I’m trying to tell my stupid heart.

“So…”

The word hangs in the air. Griff looks at me, his expression unreadable. That damn mask that he was wearing for weeks when I met him, the one I’ve been breaking down, is back in place.

“First, I want to thank you for giving me space. You’ve respected what I asked for, and it’s given me lots of time to think, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I spoke to my therapist,” he begins. His face is slightly contorted, as if it is difficult for him to say the words. “And she has suggested that I voice my concerns to you rather than dwelling on them myself.”

I clear my throat and sit up straighter on the sofa.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

~What is he concerned about? It must be whether or not he might lose his job.~

“As much as I want to see where this could go, and believe me, I really do,” he says, holding my gaze with such sincerity that my breath catches in my throat. “There are some things holding me back.”

By some miracle, I find my voice. “Like?”

“Well, for one, your father employs me. Fraternization is not allowed with clients, and if we were to get into a relationship, your father would not want me to be your bodyguard.”

I have already thought about this problem and have some suggestions, but I let him continue.

“Also, I haven’t been in a relationship since… a very long time. Years. I don’t really know how to be in one anymore; I’ve been by myself for so long. Even moving in with you was a big step for me.”

I nod, letting him know that I’m listening. He frowns and looks down at his hands on his lap.

“What if things go really well, we develop feelings for each other, and then we break up? We won’t be a part of each other’s lives anymore. I have gotten very…~used~ to you the last few weeks, Zee. I can’t picture my life without you in it.” He looks up and meets my eyes. “I’m worried that I will lose you.”

My heart clenches at his words.

~I’m worried that I will lose you.~

He cares. He really cares about me.

Despite the gloominess of his words, I smile. Griff looks at me strangely.

“Is there anything else you’re worried about?” I ask.

“No, I think that’s it.”

I push off the sofa and lean forward, smiling widely at him.

“Okay, then can I talk now?”