Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Ruby

After Edward leaves, I return to my art studio to try to catch up on my current commissions. I have several paintings that are ready to be varnished. As soon as they dry, I’ll package them up for shipping. I’ll need to talk to Miguel about shipping. There must be a mailroom in the building.

As I’m prepping a few canvases for new projects, Miguel knocks on my open door. “You busy?”

I glance up from my worktable. “No. Just getting some new canvases ready.”

“Jason just texted. He and Layla would like to come over this evening to welcome you to the building. They’ve offered to bring dinner. Are you okay with having some company?”

“Jason and Layla? Sure.” They’re both nice, and I need to start making friends. If I want any type of normalcy, I need to move past my comfort zone, and that includes making friends.

“Is pizza okay? They’ve offered to pick up some pizzas.”

“Sure. I’ll never turn down a pizza.”

“Margherita?”

“Yes. That sounds great.”

* * *

When we hear a knock, Miguel answers the door. I rush to the bathroom to freshen up and brush my hair. When I join them in the living room, I see three pizza boxes spread out on the coffee table, along with bottles of Coke and water. Layla’s sitting in the armchair, and Jason’s sitting on the floor at her feet. They left the sofa for me and Miguel.

“Hi, guys,” I say, standing just in the living room. I try my best to ignore my racing pulse. It’s okay. These people are friends.

Layla stands and holds out a bouquet of fresh-cut wildflowers wrapped in plastic. “These are for you.” She gives me a hug. “Welcome to the building.”

“Thank you,” I say as she hands them to me. “They’re gorgeous.”

Layla glances around the apartment, at all the plants hanging by the balcony doors and the potted trees and plants out on the balcony. “I’m glad your plants made the move, too.”

“Thanks to Miguel, everything made it over here. It feels just like home, only everything’s newer and shinier. And we have more space.”

We. Like we share this apartment. Like it’s ours.

I have to keep reminding myself this is only temporary. And now that Miguel uncovered who was stalking me—and why—I suppose our arrangement is going to come to an end soon. Miguel was hired to assess my situation. Not only did he assess it, but he also uncovered the culprits—Darren and Allen. I’m trying to get used to thinking of Allen as Allen, and not as my dad.

“I’ll get us some plates and napkins,” Miguel says as he heads for the kitchen.

I gaze at the beautiful bouquet of flowers. “I’ll go put these in water.” I follow Miguel into the kitchen and pull a glass vase out from underneath the sink.

“That was nice of Layla to bring you a housewarming gift,” Miguel says as I fill the vase with water.

“It is.” As I unwrap the bouquet and set it in the vase, I realize this is my first housewarming gift. And I think Layla is my first friend. There have been so many firsts lately, my head is spinning. Little by little, I’m inching toward the kind of life I want.

I arrange the stems in the vase and stand back to look at the result. “What do you think?” I ask Miguel.

He leans close and kisses my cheek. “I think it’s perfect.”

I set the vase in the center of the kitchen table. Then I join the others in the living room, where Miguel is handing out plates and napkins. Everyone grabs a slice of pizza and a drink.

“Mmm,” I say, moaning when I take my first bite. “I haven’t had pizza this good in years.”

“Hey,” Miguel says, elbowing me playfully. “I think your homemade pizza is as good as this.”

I laugh. “You’re just being nice.”

“No, I’m serious,” he says. He leans close and kisses the side of my head. “In fact, I think your pizza is better.”

“Liar,” I say. I can’t help smiling, though. His praise means the world to me.

As everyone starts to dig in to their food, I notice Jason subtly using his phone to read the glucose monitor on Layla’s arm. It dawns on me—he’s not just her boyfriend. He’s also her—what? Her protector? Like Miguel has been for me. But clearly they live together as a couple—as a romantic couple. I sneak a peek at Miguel and find him watching me with a curious expression on his face. It’s almost a longing, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am.

I would give anything for Miguel to remain in my life once this is all over. I suppose I could hire him to stay with me—as my protector. My twenty-fifth birthday is next month. I’ll inherit my trust fund, and then money won’t be a problem.

After we finish eating, Layla helps me carry the dirty dishes to the kitchen. As I rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher—I finally have a dishwasher!—she leans against the counter.

“How do you like the apartment?” she asks.

“I love it. It’s much nicer than my apartment.”

I try not to stare at Layla, but it’s hard. She’s stunning, with her silky straight black hair and dark eyes lined in kohl. I’m not sure what her ethnic background is, but I’m guessing Middle Eastern or Mediterranean. She’s wearing a short-sleeve, knit tunic with gray leggings and a pair of short black boots. The logo on the tunic is from University of Chicago.

I point at her outfit. “You go to University of Chicago?”

She nods. “I’m a sophomore.”

“What’s your major?”

“Psychology. I’d like to be a mental health counselor.”

“Wow, that’s admirable.”

She shrugs. “I have a lot of experience when it comes to counseling. I’ve been helped by some great counselors, so I thought maybe I could help others.”

“I guess we have that in common. I’ve been in counseling on and off since—well, for years. You know, for agoraphobia.”

Layla gives me a small smile. “Me too, but for auditory hallucinations.”

Her admission takes me by surprise. “Auditory hallucinations?” It takes a moment for that to sink in. “You hear things?”

“Yes. Voices—mean girl voices. At least that’s how I characterize them.” She laughs. “So if I zone out on you, please don’t take it personally. Sometimes they’re very distracting. It can be hard to block them out.”

“Do you hear them all the time?”

She frowns. “Not all the time, but often.”

Her ear buds are starting to make sense now. “So that’s why you listen to music a lot?”

She nods. “It helps me focus.”

I feel a sudden kinship with Layla, that we have more in common than I realized. “It looks like we both have challenges.”

Layla nods. “Yep. I just thought you’d want to know you’re not the only one dealing with issues. It’s a lot easier for me, now, with Jason in my life. He always seems to know what I need.”

“Is he—” I break off here, not sure what to ask. “Are you guys—”

She smiles. “He’s my boyfriend, yes, but he’s also my bodyguard. He monitors my health.”

“When we were eating I noticed Jason checking your blood sugar.”

“I’m a type I diabetic. Let’s just say I keep Jason on his toes.”

As we finish cleaning up the kitchen, Layla says, “You know, I’ve known Miguel for a while now. He and Jason are close. Miguel’s also good friends with my brother, Ian.”

“It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but my point is, everyone likes Miguel. He’s a great guy.”

I feel my cheeks heating. “Yes, he is.” If I’m not mistaken, I think Layla’s doing a bit of matchmaking.

Miguel pops his head through the kitchen doorway. “We found one of Liam’s championship fights on YouTube. You girls want to come watch it with us?”

“Sure,” Layla says. “Come on.” She gestures for me to follow. “Liam teaches martial arts and self-defense at McIntyre Security. He’s also a champion MMA fighter.”

We return to the living room and get comfortable watching Liam McIntyre dominate his opponent in a boxing ring. Honestly, it’s a bit brutal to watch. I find myself flinching every time he gets hit or kicked.

Liam’s championship video leads to another and another.

Miguel stands. “Who wants popcorn? This definitely calls for popcorn.”

* * *

Later that evening, after Layla and Jason have gone, Miguel and I are sitting together on the sofa, our feet propped up on the coffee table, in just our socks. We’re just chilling.

As my eyes grow heavy, I decide to get ready for bed. I disappear into the bathroom to wash up, and then into my bedroom to change into my nightgown. When I return to the living room, I find that Miguel has changed into a pair of navy-blue-and-white plaid flannel PJ bottoms and a navy blue T-shirt.

Miguel turns off the TV. “Ready for bed?”

“Yes.”

We’ve never really talked about our sleeping arrangement here. He slept with me last night, but I don’t know if he plans to do that again, or even if he wants to. I don’t want to make any assumptions. He has his own bedroom here. Maybe he wants his own space.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. I just—I was wondering—”

He rises from the sofa and walks up to me with open arms. “Wondering what?”

“About the sleeping arrangements. I mean, are we—” My voice trails off. I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never been in a situation like this.

Miguel sweeps me up into his arms, carries me to my bed, and sets me on my feet. When Pumpkin races into the room and jumps up on the bed, Miguel laughs. “It looks like Pumpkin’s already made himself at home.”

I don’t know the correct etiquette for asking your—what? bodyguard?roommate? —if he wants to sleep with you. I sit on the side of the bed and reach for his hand. “Are you sleeping with me tonight?”

He glances down at me, his dark eyes smoldering. “I’d like to, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

I tug on his hand, drawing him closer. “I’m totally okay with you being presumptuous.”

He smiles as he lays me back on the bed. When he kisses me, my whole body heats up. My breasts feel full, and the spot between my legs begins to ache. He links his fingers with mine, holding my hands pinned to the mattress as he comes up over me.

As I gaze up into his dark eyes, I lose myself in their depths. His hands tighten on mine, and I’m so aware of his strength, his passion. He kisses me hungrily, his lips nudging mine open. My pulse races in anticipation.

“How do you feel?” he asks as he slides a hand between my thighs. “You’re not sore?”

I know what he’s asking. Am I sore from last night? From losing my virginity? “No. I feel perfect.”

As he kisses me, he brings one of my hands down between us. I gasp when I feel his erection brush against the back of my fingers. Releasing his hand, I wrap my fingers around him. He sucks in a breath as I tighten my grip. I’m amazed by how velvety soft his skin is, and yet beneath he’s hard as steel.

Without a word, he shows me how to stroke him. I revel in touching him, loving the fact that I’m giving him pleasure. He kisses me hungrily once more, his breathing heavy. I love the sounds he’s making. Before long, he covers my hand with his and gently peels my fingers off him. He chuckles roughly. “Much more of that and this’ll be over before it begins.”

Miguel suddenly moves lower in the bed and nudges my legs again. The next thing I know, he’s settled between my thighs. His fingers touch me lightly, spreading me open. When I feel his breath on my heated flesh, I gasp. His tongue flicks my sensitive clitoris, and I cry out, raising my hips up off the bed.

Holy cow, I never dreamed—“Miguel!”

As he torments my clit, his long finger slips carefully inside me, searching and teasing. When he strokes me deep inside, my thighs start trembling. Heat and electricity radiate outward from my core, and my nipples tighten in response. Pleasure explodes inside me, stealing my breath.

Miguel rises up, grabs a condom from the nightstand drawer, and quickly sheaths himself. Every inch of me is still tingling when he guides himself into me. He sinks slowly, all the way, and we both gasp.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“Yes.”

He moves then, slowly at first, almost pulling out before sinking deeply back inside. The friction slowly builds, along with the pleasure. He picks up his pace, and soon he’s thrusting hard and fast. Suddenly, he sinks deep and holds himself there. I can feel his erection throbbing inside me. With a rough cry, he arches his back. His expression tightens into a grimace, his jaws clenched.

Miguel rolls us onto our sides. He brushes my hair back from my face before he leans close to kiss me. We’re both breathing hard, both of us reeling from the pleasure.

After he disposes of the condom, I visit the bathroom before turning to bed. Miguel pulls me down beside him. The heat of his body sinks into my bones and feels so incredibly good I don’t ever want to move.

My fingers intertwine with his. His slow, steady breath ruffles my hair and sends a shiver down my spine. My breasts still feel tight and full, and my nipples are tingling. And best of all, my heart feels full to bursting.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I never even dreamed this could happen for me. I was locked in my own private world until Miguel came and set me free.

In the short time I’ve known him, Miguel has given me the things I want and need and dream of… namely security and safety. Because of him, I’ve met new people—nice people I like. Thanks to him, I’ve had more of a normal life in the past few days than I’ve had in years. And I can’t help wanting more of the same.