Chapter 15: Don't Think, Just Move

~ SASHA ~

Zev staring at her and touching her was… overwhelming. His gaze followed her like she was the only thing in the world, his ice-blue eyes fixed, pupils dilated. And she shivered, her skin pebbling with an intoxicating mix of desire and thrill. She'd had to close her eyes when his fingers met her skin, slid into her hair, because her scalp prickled and she was at risk of embarrassing herself.

She bit her lip to keep herself steady, and just breathed. But then she caught that smell of him again.

Shit, she was a mess. A melting, glowing mess.

Then he whispered her name and she almost whimpered. She'd ached to hear that, that tender, breath of her name, the way he used to say it, in her ear, in her hair, against her skin—for five years.

Her hand slipped up to catch his, to stop him, and he froze. She gave a little laugh. She wasn't even looking at him and she could feel him. Could still read him like a book.

He was terrified she was going to say no. And that was what convinced her.

This was still Zev. Her Zev. Zev was good. She knew that. Knew it like she knew her own name. What he'd done… what had happened that night… there had to be a reason.

So, when she opened her eyes and his locked on, she sucked in another deep breath of his summer rain-shower smell and nodded. "Okay," she said.

It shouldn't be so easy to throw her entire life away with one word.

But it wasn't, really. She wasn't throwing it away on a word. She was throwing it away on a man.

If she was a fool for that… well… she'd tried. She'd tried to get over him. To escape his memory. To convince herself that what they'd had had been nothing but teenage fumblings and infatuation.

But it hadn't worked. And now he was here.

"Okay," she said again, clearer this time. "Tell me what to do."

He stared at her like he was going to kiss her and for a moment she held her breath. But then he blinked and stood—hunched, because the van was a good foot shorter than him—and offered her a hand to help her out of the seat.

"When I open the door, we walk, just like you would any other day. As if none of this has happened, okay?"

She nodded, swallowing. She was really going to do this.

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"I'll secure the apartment, but you don't say a word—not a single word—about leaving or what's happened tonight. You can talk. You talk about seeing me again. You talk about your questions about us, anything… normal. Be angry if you're angry. Be hurt. Be scared. Whatever. But you don't talk about the fact that we're packing a bag, or that I'm making sure there's no one around, okay?"

She nodded again, hysterical laughter bubbling in her throat at the sudden mental image of herself standing over a pile of underwear and socks, berating him while he ran through the apartment with a gun, like a hero in a bad cop movie.

"When the time's right, I'm going to pretend to get mad at you and leave. I'm not leaving, you understand? But if you make any noise after that it has to sound like you're hurt and pissed off that I left you again. You can't… Sash, you can't listen to anything I say when that's going on, you understand?"

"You think they have my apartment bugged?"

He snorted. "If they don't, someone dropped the ball. But I don't know if they'd already done it earlier, or if they rushed in tonight. So, we act like they can hear everything in there, okay?"

She nodded, her heart hammering on her chest.

He took her hand and she breathed in sharply. "When I leave, I'll take the bag. You make whatever noise you want about me leaving, then you come out into the hallway like you're mad and looking for me. Then we run like hell."

She nodded again, dumbly. "Where are we going?" she asked.

That was the first time his gaze shuttered. Fear trickled through her when he swallowed and looked down, but he met her gaze before he spoke, rubbing his jaw that was shadowed with stubble.

"I'm taking you home," he said carefully.

Her face crumpled. "I can't go home, Zev. My parents split up. I don't have—"

"Not your home, Sash. That's not safe. They'd already have eyes on your parents. I'm taking you to my home."

She frowned. "That little town in the middle of nowhere?"

He nodded, but his eyes were guarded. But he didn't give her time to think that through. He reached for the handle of the van door and murmured under the roll and creak of it, "It's time. We need to get moving. Remember, talk."

She nodded, then let him lead her out of the van and across the parking lot to the stairwell. 

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