15. Raven

Chapter 15

Raven

S team rose in gentle spirals as I lifted myself from the water, droplets cascading down my skin like the remnants of a storm. I reached for the plush towel, the fabric a soft kiss against my dampness, enveloping me in its comforting embrace. The warmth of the bathroom, a cocoon of heated tiles and misted mirrors, clung to me, warding off the morning chill that threatened just beyond its borders.

Another day . My inner voice, ever-present, reminded me of the challenges that awaited. You can't let your guard down, not even for a moment.

Padding across the tiled floor, I entered the bedroom, where dawn's light played peekaboo through the curtains. The sun, an unwitting accomplice, danced over the room's furnishings. My gaze settled on the bed. An unmade canvas of crumpled sheets and memories of restless nights spent more with thoughts than dreams.

Peaceful... for now . But peace was a luxury, and I knew better than to indulge too deeply. Stay focused, stay alert.

I moved with purpose, each step towards the window deliberate, my muscles remembering the tension that had become a constant companion.

Today, you're just a runner, Raven . The facade of normalcy while she put on her running gear. Just a runner.

I approached my closet, a fortress of order amidst the chaos that had become my life. With a discerning eye, I scanned the neatly arranged rows of athletic wear, fingertips brushing against moisture-wicking fabrics and compression garments, each piece a testament to my disciplined routine. The soft material whispered promises of comfort for the miles ahead, but it was the security disguised in the mundane that I sought most.

"Control," I whispered, plucking a pair of black leggings from a hanger. "Just another mile to run, another day to outpace the shadows."

I laid the selected gear on my bed—a vibrant sports bra and a lightweight tank top alongside the leggings—and began to shed the towel, embracing the chill that momentarily kissed my skin.

"Focus on the rhythm of your feet, the beating of your heart." I coached, slipping one leg into the leggings. "Let the world blur around you until—"

The door creaked open, slicing through my reverie like a knife through silk. Jerome stood there, his silhouette framed by the doorway, his posture radiating an unwavering strength that seemed almost tangible.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice a smooth baritone that filled the space between us, until his eyes raked me in. "I didn't mean to intrude."

I straightened up, the leggings now secure around my waist. I arched an eyebrow at him, a silent challenge to his unexpected presence. "Timing is everything, Jerome, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed," he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But then again, unpredictability can be an asset in our line of work."

"Or a liability," I countered, pulling the tank top over my head, our eyes locked. Was it weird that I liked him looking at me? "You're up early. To what do I owe this... pleasure?"

"Call it a professional courtesy, but honestly, after last night… I couldn't sleep. The vodka must've helped because I came to check on you in the middle of the night and you were snoring so loud I could hear you through the door." Jerome replied, stepping fully into the room. His gaze didn't waver, though the intensity was not one of scrutiny but rather of quiet admiration.

"I do not fucking snore." I threw the towel at him and he caught it. "Whatever you say, princess, but I know what I heard."

I leaned over, slipping my socks and shoes on. Jerome's eyes took me in, and he didn't even try to hide it at this point.

"Did you check on me out of courtesy or concern?" I quipped. "Because if you're here to babysit me, I assure you, I can handle a morning run."

"I'm simply here to ensure that today's run is uneventful."

"Uneventful is my middle name," I retorted, the final piece of my armor now in place. My movements were fluid, a dance of readiness that I had perfected over time. "Though I suppose having backup doesn't hurt."

"Exactly," Jerome agreed, his stance relaxed yet alert, the embodiment of a guardian without a trace of condescension.

He looked so different in his grey shorts and white t-shirt. His muscles were rippling against the fabric and I was here for it.

"Shall we go?"

"Let's." I moved toward the door, stride confident and sure. "After all, the road won't run itself."

Jerome's eyes locked onto mine, and I sensed a shift in the air, a subtle change that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. There was a flicker of something across his face—surprise mingled with appreciation—as if he were seeing me for the first time. His gaze wasn't intrusive, yet it bore a weight that felt both tender and intense, acknowledging my presence beyond the physical.

"Didn't realize the morning light flattered you this much," he said, a hint of warmth softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor. It was a rare concession to the chemistry that simmered between us, a flash of the man behind the professional facade.

I caught my breath, feeling an unexpected flutter in my chest. Despite the routine of our morning interactions, Jerome's sudden appearance at this hour seemed to amplify everything—the spacious room now felt charged, my skin too aware of his proximity.

"Maybe it's just the surprise of you here, catching me off-guard," I responded, trying to steady my racing heart. Every sense heightened, attuned to the man who stood before me—a man whose job was to shield me from harm, but who also inadvertently stripped away layers of my defenses.

His lips quirked in response, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that danced like sparks around us. It was a dangerous game we played, balancing on the edge of professionalism and something far more personal.

"Your commitment is impressive. Most people would take the luxury of a slow morning."

"Routine keeps me sane," I admitted.

Then, almost hesitantly, Jerome's hand lifted, bridging the gap between intention and action. His fingers brushed against my cheek, soft and surprisingly gentle. It was as though he understood the significance of the gesture, the silent permission I was granting him to breach my carefully constructed walls.

The touch sent a cascade of shivers down my spine, sparking a wildfire that threatened to consume the reservations I clung to. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, and for a moment, I closed my eyes, savoring the contact, the simple connection that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his concern filtering through the tenderness of his touch.

"More than okay," I whispered back, leaning ever so slightly into his palm. Jerome Dawson, the one person who had seen the raw edges of my life and still stood by me. And as I stood there, with his hand cupping my face, it felt like we were on the precipice of something profound.

The world stilled. Jerome's gaze locked onto mine. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the tempest within me—a storm that had been gathering momentum ever since he entered my life again, silent and steadfast.

We leaned in, the space between us filled with the intangible threads of connection that had woven around us, unseen but irrefutable. My lips parted slightly, and then his were on mine, igniting a blaze that raced through my veins, setting every nerve ending aflame.

His lips were soft.

"Raven," he murmured against my mouth, pouring every ounce of my longing into that one kiss, hoping he'd understand that this wasn't just desire—it was recognition, acceptance of the bond that had formed between us despite the chaos that surrounded my life.

My hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them with a fervor that spoke louder than words ever could. I was relenting, allowing myself this moment of surrender.

We broke apart, breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we tried to calm the tempest of emotions that the kiss had unleashed. My eyes fluttered open, those depths of endless determination gazing into mine, and in them, I saw not just the fire we ignited but the possibility of an inferno that could either forge us together or consume us entirely.

"What are we doing?"

"Something we should have done a long time ago." It was a risk, this admission, but if there was ever a time for risks, it was now with him.

"But we should wait until after all of this goes away. I need to be on my A game around you until this is handled."

His words and dedication to his job were admiring, but honestly not what I wanted to hear at that moment. Fuck the job!

"Once all this is over, we can see if we click in the same way without danger following us around. Deal?"

I rolled my eyes. "Deal, I guess."

How was I supposed to go to sleep every night with him in the next room, probably touching himself, thinking about me?