Chapter 22

“Zavien, please, I’ve had a really long day. I just need to go inside.” She fixed him with her most imploring stare.

He didn’t seem moved by it and continued to block the entrance. “Why do you smell like a taqueria?”

She closed her eyes and took several long, deep breaths. ~Do not cry in front of him.~ She would never forgive herself if she did—it was unacceptable.

But it was also unavoidable.

“Whoa,” he said, alarmed, finally stepping aside to usher her in as her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs, and she buried her face in her cold, wet hands. He placed a palm between her shoulders, his touch warming her through her clothes.

“I’ve had a r-really long day,” she said through hiccups, “and you are s-such an a-asshole.” As much as she wanted to berate him further, she didn’t.

He said nothing the entire way up to their floor, just kept his arm around her and listened to her sobs. When the elevator opened, she shrugged out of his embrace and made a beeline for her door.

It wasn’t until she reached it that she remembered she had no means of getting inside.

“I’ll text the building manager,” he said as he came up behind her, “but I doubt we’ll get a response tonight.”

Lara sniffled and swiped her hand across her nose before turning to face him. As he unlocked his apartment, she said, “You don’t have to do this,” even as she stepped past him inside.

“The alternative is leaving you crying in the hallway, and even I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“No, you’ll just leave me crying in the rain.”

“Oh, well, my buzzer’s broken.” He gave her a tight smile. “I can hear others, but they can’t hear me, and I have to go down in person to let them in.”

Lara’s cheeks blazed with shame for all the awful things she had thought about him. Not wanting to cry again and unsure of what else to say, she blurted out, “Nice place.”

Zavien fixed her with a dry look that said, “Like you haven’t seen it before,” which eased her tension, coaxing a weak smile from her.

But when the pitter-patter of paws approached, and a cold, wet nose nudged at her ankles, she smiled in earnest. She crouched down to scratch Pablo’s head, but seeing his squishy little face made her eyes well again.

“Here, you can change into this.”

Blinking through her tears, Lara glanced up at Zavien, who loomed over her, offering her a stack of dry clothes. “Oh,” she said softly before standing and accepting them. “Thank you.”

He nodded, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and shifted from foot to foot. “Bathroom’s over there.”

Lara muttered another thank you and left to change, noting how neat and tidy he was—maybe a bit of a clean freak. Not only was there a lack of clutter in his apartment, but his bathroom was also spic and span.

After pulling on his warm and nice-smelling clothes, she allowed herself one embarrassing, indulgent moment to breathe him in before forcing herself to go back out there and face him.

He was hanging up a phone call when she rejoined him in the living area.

“Anything from Mr. Nakamura?” she asked.

“Afraid not. Make yourself comfortable. It’ll probably be morning by the time he answers.” He patted the couch cushion beside him and offered her a warm smile.

Her face heated.

He had taken off his mask, and without the distraction of kissing him or being blind with rage, she could really soak him in. His smile widened when he caught her staring. “See something you like?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed with a smirk before sitting. She leaned in close, and a thrill shot through her when his eyes flickered to her lips. “Pablo!” She slapped her legs to call the pug from Zavien’s lap to hers.

Pablo came and made himself comfortable between her thighs, resting his head on her knee.

“Much better.” She flashed Zavien a teasing smile.

“Next time, I’ll send him to let you in.”

“Don’t be jealous.” Though Lara directed her words at Zavien, she spoke them in baby talk to Pablo. After a moment, she set her tone to serious and said, “Sorry for intruding on your night. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing.”

Lara kept her eyes on the dog as the couch shifted beside her. She assumed Zavien was moving to get up, but then his hand entered her field of vision, cupped Pablo’s face, and scratched the underside of his chin.

He was so close that she could rest her head on his shoulder, and for a second, she actually considered it. “Why were you crying, Lara?” His eyes roamed her face, making her feel transparent.

“It was just a really bad day,” she whispered, and let out a long, shaky sigh before spilling her heart out. She wasn’t sure why she suddenly found it so easy to talk to him; he really was an ass.

But as he sat beside her, stoic and silent, she thought that maybe he was actually very sweet, and it was her that brought out the ass in him.

During Lara’s monologue, Zavien’s hand shifted from Pablo’s neck to her thigh, just above her knee. Under different circumstances, she would have thought he was making a move on her, but as things were, he was simply comforting her—and doing a bang-up job of it, too.

He listened as she recapped the sad saga of her day, and once she finished, he asked, “And the rice and beans?”

“Some dickhead refused to let me in the building.” She huffed, even though she had lost her dinner before she had buzzed him.

“It was by grand design,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk. “You would have ended up in my apartment, eating your beans, with nowhere to go but to my bathroom.”

“Are you trying to tell me you weren’t going to let me in because you didn’t want me farting in your apartment?”

His only response was a cheeky smile.

“I don’t know how anyone so sweet can be such an ass.” She rolled her eyes, but there was no stopping the stupid, fond grin that broke out on her face.

“So, I’m sweet now?”

“Annoying with a side of sweet. A very small side. Like those tiny apple slices they put in kids’ meals.”

He laughed genuinely at that, and the sound melted her heart. Crow’s-feet appeared at the corners of his eyes, and the thought that he must have laughed a lot to earn those made her feel fuzzy inside.

Unable to quell her curiosity, she finally asked, “So what’s with the face mask?”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly a paradigm of style. Do you have allergies or something?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What are you allergic to?”

“Incurable nosiness and prying questions,” he answered dryly. He hadn’t said it particularly harshly, but it pricked her heart nonetheless.

“Well, I’ll just get out of your hair, then,” she said, scooting halfway off the couch, even though Pablo was still in her lap.

To add insult to injury, Zavien let out a soft, gentle laugh. When her jaw dropped in offense, he leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek. His ears appeared redder when he pulled back. “You, your beans, and your wind are welcome any time.”

Her heart danced in her chest, and she settled back into the couch. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I get locked out. I’ll get extra beans.”

“You and Pablo will get along famously.”

“We already do.” She returned her attention to the sleepy pug.

Zavien’s hand squeezed her knee gently before he let her go; part of her wished he hadn’t. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

There was something strange in his voice, but she didn’t have a chance to analyze it before a knock sounded at his door.

Pablo followed Zavien to answer it, and Lara sat frozen on the couch, thinking the late-night visitor could be a woman. However, when a second male voice reached her ear, she released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Zavien came back into the living area with a bag in his hand and a smile on his face.

“You ordered food?” she asked in surprise.

“I already have one set of puppy-dog eyes wandering around this apartment. I can’t deal with yours too—not to mention, your stomach is growling so loud it’s beginning to upset Pablo.” After sitting, he handed her a piping hot container of what looked like soup.

Noodle soup, she discovered upon opening it.

Not waiting for him, she dug into her brothy noodles with entirely too much enthusiasm, sloppily slurping and chatting as she ate. He made a few barbs about her messy eating, but when he belched, she teased him right back.

They chowed down and talked like old friends, leaning in, teasing, and slinging insults at one another until her dinner had gone cold and forgotten.

When her fourth or fifth yawn hit, Zavien chuckled and took the food from her hands. “I think it’s your bedtime.” He stood and put the leftovers in the fridge.

Lara opened her mouth to argue, but it quickly turned into another yawn. “Okay, yeah, maybe.” She stretched her legs on the tiny couch, and when her feet pressed against the opposite armrest, she imagined how uncomfortable her night would be here.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” Zavien started, pausing to sigh and hit her with one of his cute head tilts, “but you can’t sleep there. How about we share my bed?”