Stoking the Fire (Salus Security #1) - Teodora Kostova Page 0,29
moment, Alec nods and turns to leave.
“You don’t need to stick to me all the time while we’re here, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The building is probably more secure than the White House right now. I doubt I’m in any danger here.”
Alec folds his arms, making his biceps bulge in his long-sleeved Henley. “True. You’re in no danger here, and I’d prefer it if you spent as much time as possible inside this building.”
“Not gonna happen. I have shit to do.”
Alec huffs a sigh. “A guy can hope.”
I think I see a hint of a smile ghosting his stern expression, but I may have imagined it.
“Good night, Zach. Holler if you need me.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of the room across the hall.
I nod, then watch his back as he walks away.
Suddenly, the pristine bed looks very inviting.
I wake up a few hours after I passed out on top of the covers. Groaning, I reach for the nightstand and turn on the lamp. I have to squint against the light, too bright in the dark room.
Bone-deep exhaustion claws at me as I try to move and get up. Seems like all the events from yesterday are just now sinking in: the attack on the Dawn office, the new security measures, the death threats, Alec—
Fuck, Alec. He’s here. Right across the hall.
In bed with another man. The mysterious Felix.
A frustrated sigh turns into a grunt as I sit up, my bare feet landing on the fluffy carpet. Intellectually, I know they aren’t sleeping in the same bed. But I can’t stop picturing it.
“Fucking stop it already!” I chide myself, rubbing my palms over my face. “Fucking stop.” This time, it comes out more like a plea.
It’s been three years since we broke up. Three years with no contact and a fuckload of unresolved issues.
So why does seeing Alec again feel like an elastic band finally snapping into place after being pulled too taut for too long?
I get up, forcing my thoughts to disperse. I’m not doing this now; I have bigger shit to worry about. I use the en-suite bathroom, then head downstairs to the kitchen. The lights are on everywhere in the penthouse; my mother doesn’t like it when it’s dark. And besides, it isn’t unusual to have someone walking around in the middle of the night. I don’t even know when my father sleeps. I’ve seen him in his office or at the kitchen table, nursing a strong cup of coffee at all hours of the day and night.
The thick carpet feels comforting under my bare feet, a stark contrast to the marble tiles on the kitchen floor. Thankfully, there’s nobody there. I’m really not in the mood to talk to anyone. I just want to grab a snack and enjoy it in silence, while being inevitably tortured by thoughts of Alec and Felix sharing a room.
Why the fuck is this bothering me so much?
I pad to the fridge and take out a tub of ice cream and a carton of orange juice, closing the door with my foot.
“Hey,” a voice says, startling me. I nearly drop everything on the floor as I whirl to see who’s at the door.
Evie’s leaning against the frame, a crutch tucked under her other arm. She frowns when she sees my alarmed expression.
“Sorry. I thought you heard me come over. I’m hard to miss.” She walks closer, her crutch making a distinctive noise as she moves.
“It’s okay. I was… spacing out, I guess.”
She eyes me curiously before she settles on one of the bar stools, propping her crutch on the counter.
“Wanna share?” I ask, as I place the ice cream and the juice between us.
“Sure.”
I scoop some ice cream in two bowls, drizzle chocolate sauce on top, and crush a chocolate chip cookie I found in the cookie jar. Evie watches me as I prepared our sundaes, looking away when I meet her eyes. She keeps biting her lower lip as she always does when she’s nervous.
I place a bowl in front of her and sit across the counter. She scoops a generous spoonful, dripping chocolate sauce on her chin as she eats it. I hand her a napkin from the stack at the end of the counter. She thanks me and keeps eating.
I can’t take it anymore.
“What’s up?” I ask casually, studying her expression.