my hand out from the place he'd trapped it between our bodies, cupping his coarsely stubbled cheek in my palm gently. "Where'd you go, Big Guy?" I asked. Some of the tension drifted from his frame, his body relaxing over mine as he let out a slow breath. He still didn't speak, didn't move to get off me, but his face came into my line of view.
His hazel eyes were blank, and I knew whatever memory played out in his head, he didn't see me as I was. "Sadie," he whispered, his voice hoarse. As if he tried to pull free of the grasp of the memory he was trapped in, of the trauma that pulled him back to a place I didn't want to contemplate.
"I'm right here, Lorenzo," I sighed, touching my lips to his softly. The moment felt unbearably intimate. Seeing him in such a state, touching him when he was so vulnerable, felt like far more than a fuck buddy would do.
Knowing that he still protected me, wherever he went inside the horrors of his mind, only worsened the nagging emotion in my chest that felt an awful lot like love. I didn't want to want him. I couldn't want more, because the moment I did it would be ripped away from me. Just like always.
Life filled his hazel eyes as I pulled back, his entire body going rigid the moment he realized where we were. "Fuck," he groaned, shoving his weight off me. He sat with his back to the front desk counter, hanging his head in his hands and shoving his gun back into his holster. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." I shook my head. "That was probably the least painful tackle ever. I don't even remember hitting the floor," I said with a light tease as I moved to a sitting position. He glanced around, probably wondering who had seen his episode. Rebel butted her head up against his hand, wiggling into his side to demand attention, and he absentmindedly stroked her short fur.
"Can we get out of here for the day? I just...I need to go," he admitted. Normally, I'd have never tolerated leaving the gym early two days in a row. But the humiliation on his face and the soft sound of his voice fell only slightly short of begging. There was nothing left to do but nod and go change and get my things. The gym would be fine for the day with Beth to run it and several other trainers on duty.
Enzo was more important.
I'd been to Indulgence before, but something about walking in with Enzo felt different. The club was still quiet for the day, only one of the bars downstairs open to serve finger foods and alcohol to the people who came in midday. They were few and far between, because while Indulgence had the highest quality of everything, who went to a nightclub for lunch?
Enzo didn't bother with any of the people who looked to him as we strolled in the front doors. Rebel hovered behind us, her feet padding across the hardwood floors quickly to keep up with his rigorous pace. People who wanted his attention seemed to get the hint as he stormed through the space, avoiding him to the best of their ability.
I kind of envied them for that, since I felt like wherever we went wouldn't end well for me. Something was coming. Enzo wouldn't hurt me, but the rigidity of his frame set my anxiety to a rapid pitch, my fingers tapping against my thigh in steady bursts of five. Rebel bumped my hand, but even she couldn't distract me.
Not from this.
"I can just hang out here. Learn to be a bartender or something," I said as we reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Walk your ass up on your own or I'll carry you," Enzo said shortly, proceeding up the steps. With a nervous swallow, I followed behind him. When we rounded the top of the stairs, he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and shoved open the first door. A large office with screens all over was inside, the entire back wall occupied by a glass window that looked down on the main floor, I stepped in nervously. The photos on the desk showed Enzo with a group of six women of varying ages, all shared commonalities between them. Family, somehow. They were the only personal touch to hint that the office was his.