Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MAYA

“ T hanks for agreeing to stay,” I tell Lacey at the door, shouldering my bag. A cold shower and two coffees have made me feel just about human, but the effects of last night still linger. It all feels so surreal: the fight, the drugging, the ride home. However, the texts prove it all happened. “I know it’s a lot.”

“It’s a lot for you,” Lacey says quietly. “A lot of … investment, Maya. Some days, you must lose money paying me while traveling to work.”

“Is there something you want to say?” I snap, far colder than I’d usually be.

My head is pulsing, and I don’t want to consider abandoning Mom.

Lacey takes a breath, then says, “Keeping your mom at home is becoming increasingly difficult. The medical expenses are adding up, which might be more than you can handle.”

“I know it’s tough, but I can manage. Mom’s happier here with me.”

“It’s not just about happiness. She needs care that we can’t provide here.”

I grit my teeth, agony twisting through me. “I’m doing everything I can to take care of her. She’s my mom.”

“I get that, but are you prepared for the financial strain? It could affect your future.”

“I can’t just give up on her. She needs me.”

Lacey steps forward and gently places her hand supportively on my arm. “I’m not asking you to give up. I’m asking you to consider what’s best for both of you.”

“I can’t …” My voice falters. “I won’t abandon her.”

“I just want to ensure she gets the care she needs, and you don’t stretch yourself too far until you snap.”

Tears try to prick my eyes, but I can’t let them. I need to be strong today and stay focused. “I promised her she’d always be with me. I can’t break that promise.”

Lacey squeezes my arm supportively. “You’re not breaking a promise by ensuring she gets the best care possible.”

“I’ll find a way. We’ll manage.”

She sighs. “Well, okay. I’m here to help however I can.”

I quickly leave, not wanting her to see how shaken up the conversation has gotten me. Lacey’s words won’t stop bouncing around my head. Maybe she’s right, but I can’t think about letting go.

Yet, the reality is starting to sink in. Soon, Mom won’t be able to stay with me anymore. The home we’ve shared for years has already become a place filled with medical equipment and strangers who tend to her needs. I’ve fought so hard to keep her home, but ALS doesn’t care about wishes. It progresses relentlessly, leaving me grappling with the painful truth that I can’t do this alone anymore.

Every day, I have to admit it. I see her decline a little more. Her once agile hands now lie motionless on the bed sheets. Once strong from our walks together, the muscles in her legs now lie still and wasted. It’s the beginning of the end, and I feel powerless against it.

I know deep down that the move to a care facility is inevitable and that it’s what is best for Mom’s comfort and safety. However, accepting it feels like betraying her, like admitting defeat in our battle against this cruel disease.

That’s why I have to focus on the step-by-step. Walk to the bus stop. Catch the bus. Go to work and keep my head down, one step, one breath at a time. Looking at the bigger picture, I feel like everything could crumble.

I stand in the kennel, a heavy hose in my hand, blasting down the wall. When Miles said the kennels needed cleaning, he seemed shocked when I eagerly volunteered, but I need to make myself useful. Now, wearing coveralls, gloves, and a mask, I begin wiping down the floor and the walls with heavy sponges.

As I work, I try to empty my mind. I don’t want to think about Mom, last night, or even Riley. I haven’t even texted her. Heck, she’s probably still asleep. I zone out, cleaning five kennels, when Miles bangs on the wall and says I should take a break.

“Sorry. I called, like, five times.”

“It’s okay.”

He tilts his head. “Are you good?”

“Please don’t touch me,” I say, cringing away when he tries to take me by the shoulders for no reason. He doesn’t need to have his hands on me. Nobody does except—No, just nobody. Miles raises his hands.

“Whoa, my bad.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t like people touching me.”

“Don’t act like I’m some pervert, though. Jeez.”

Now he’s got me wondering if I’m overreacting. I turn away and start unzipping the overalls. I wear my regular clothes underneath, but I still feel weird as I strip them off. Miles sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” says a familiar voice.

I turn as the caged beast from last night walks in, wearing a suit and tie. It’s shocking to see Tristan dressed like that, his clothes fitted to his every muscle. His face is freshly shaven, and his hair is cut, shaved on the sides, the top spiky. It gives him a military look—a Marine look.

“Nothing,” Miles says quickly.

“Nothing. Hmm.” Tristan walks over to me. “Maya?”

“Sorry, last night has got me shaken up. That’s all.”

“About what?”

My memory hitches, and it’s like I’m back there last night again, him scaling the cage, covered in my blood. I know what he’s saying; nothing happened last night. That’s what the suit is about, the shave, the aura of him being a new man.

“It’s nothing, really,” Miles says again.

“Miles.” Tristan turns to him, not aggressively, but with an air about him that gets my heart pumping. Maybe it calls to that cliched part of me that wants a man, perhaps even my man, to protect me. Keep me safe. “Let her talk.”

Miles looks terrified for a second, though, on the surface, Tristan is calm. Maybe it’s the size difference. Tristan towers over everybody.

“I just told Miles I’m not a touchy person. He said he was cool with it. It’s okay, Mr. Greene.”

I can play the keep-it-official game, too, if that’s what he wants to do.

Tristan scowls at Miles. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

A shimmer moves through me when his tone gets all fierce. I try not to let my mind go there. Maybe it’s those drugs wearing off. The medic was the one person there who seemed qualified, and she said it was most likely Scopolamine, also known as the Devil’s Breath. He could’ve just spilled powder on my arm or neck or stung me with a needle without me even knowing.

“Maya, my office.”

Tristan turns, leaving me no choice but to follow. Not that there’s anywhere else I’d rather go.

I follow him up the stairs, looking at his broad back, the suit jacket stretching tight. I’m tempted to make a joke or a lighthearted comment about it, but he seems different from last night. Maybe the Devil’s Breath made me see things that weren’t there: little looks, smirks, and private moments I thought we were sharing. Perhaps he wished he’d asked somebody else to give me a ride home last night.

In his office, he turns, leaning against his desk.

“Should I close the door?”

“It’s up to you,” he says coldly.

I shut it, but I’m not even sure why. I want something private between us, maybe.

“I have an offer to make you.”

My mind shudders, and I imagine him saying, “I want you to be my girl. I want you to come here now and trail your hands all over my body, feeling the hot muscles you saw last night, the muscles that felt like they were burning as you pulsed with the Devil’s Breath.”

“Huh?” I ask, struggling to stay focused.

His eyes glint with a smirk hinting at his lips. He’s trying to keep his distance but knows how difficult it is … for both of us. “I need you to work from home for a week or two. We’ve got a few dogs that need a place to stay.”

“What, really?” I say, shocked and not believing him. It’s too good to be true. I’ll be able to take care of Mom at the same time.

“Loki and Luna to start.”

“Luna the wiener?” I grin.

“All that crap … and you’re still able to get excited? You’re a wonder, Maya.”

“I thought we were pretending that never happened? That I didn’t see what I saw …”

He walks right up to me, bringing his cologne, or maybe it’s just him. Whatever it is, I feel the scent wrapping around me and flowing through me. I’ve never felt raw attraction like this. My lips tingle, my face, my thighs buzzing, teasing.

“Why are you doing this?” I whisper. “You don’t have to tell me. But you’re paying me to stay home and care for my mom. Why would you do that?”

He moves even closer. He’s shuddering all over slightly, like the start of an eruption. My skin feels like every inch is ablaze.

“Some people deserve a break,” he says.

I should leave it there. It’s too good to be true for sure, but at least I get to be with Mom for a while. Yet something in me refuses to let it go. “Is that the only reason?”

“What do you want me to say?” he growls, and suddenly, his hand is on mine. He holds me tightly, with so much warmth, pure fire blazing through his palm and into me. “I’m doing it because you, Maya, you …” He pauses. “You deserve it.”

I tighten my hand on his. I can’t deal with this right now. It’s all moving too fast, but when he leans down, I step forward. I just want a few moments of happiness, and this man brings me that over and over—small glimpses of what it would be like to live unafraid.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans just before our lips touch.

I know exactly what he means, what he’s thinking. It’s like we can’t stop. Our bodies are too hot. He presses against me, sliding his hands down to my hips, squeezing in a way that has me buzzing with even more certainty, more heat.

Maybe after this, I’ll wonder and fret, but for now, I sink against him, moaning between our tightly pressed lips when he lifts me off my feet and casually carries me to the desk. He puts me down, leaning against me, letting me feel his hard rod pushing through his pants.

“You’re so damn hot,” he groans.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.”

We share a smile. It feels so real. “Last night was like a dream—a nightmare,” he growls. “I had to keep you safe.”

“You did,” I say, and then a moan escapes me when he kisses me again. He subtly shifts his hips. When I move with him, he groans, almost like he’s obsessed, just for this moment—this steaminess. Our mouths open. He tastes so good. I can’t explain it. It’s the warm closeness of him. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer.

I gasp as my core pushes against his rock-solid length. I can feel him through the thin fabric of his suit pants, hard for me. He leans down, flattening me on the desk. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t think about anything else. Maybe Riley was right; perhaps he was using me. But maybe I want him to.

“Maya,” he whispers, kissing my cheek and down neck. “You’re so beautiful. How can you be so tough and so beautiful at the same time?”

“How can you be so surprisingly romantic?” I touch his face.

He smirks again, but then he realizes where he is and what he’s doing.

“We can’t.” He suddenly backs up, leaving me stranded and feeling foolish on the desk. “I’ve got a visitor coming, somebody I need to impress. Or intimidate. Hence the monkey suit.”

“Who is it?” I say, quickly hopping down from the desk.

So this is the game, then. He’s going to get all hot and steamy and then act like it never happened. My lips are still sore from the kissing. This shivering deep inside telling me to do it again, but …

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I’m your boss. You need to take Loki and Luna home. Or don’t you think you’re up to it?”

His tone stings. He’s getting cold all of a sudden. His words say one thing, but his eyes tell a different story. They’re full of heat and maybe something more. “So we’re going to pretend like last night never happened?” I still feel an echo of enchantment from when he came to my rescue. I’ve seen my fair share of bad, but if that man’s sick plan had worked, if Tristan hadn’t been there… I can’t even think about it. “Or … just now didn’t happen?”

He frowns. “Neither of us can afford to think about it right now.”

I can’t believe what I’m about to do. I don’t know where this confidence comes from. Maybe it’s being so low on sleep. Perhaps it’s the comedown, or sometimes you just have to take a chance, but I march right up to him. “Think about this .”

He groans as he catches me, falling into the kiss. I grind my body against him, feeling his hardness, his muscles. Then I pull away, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. I can’t do what I really want in this office.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

“Don’t apologize,” he says fiercely. “Just do what I ask, Maya, please.”

I still don’t get why he cares so much. Except the heat of his lips tells me otherwise.

“A kiss for the road?” he says, pulling me into his arms.

“Then we’ll pretend this never happened, too, right?”

He leans down, claiming me with a kiss. I know how that sounds, but this kiss is different somehow.

The world around us dissolves. The sensation is electric, a jolt of warmth that spreads from my mouth to every corner of my body. I lose myself in the texture of his lips, the way they move with an insistence that leaves me breathless.

I clutch at his shirt, needing something to anchor myself as the intensity of the kiss pulls me under. His hand cradles the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. It’s as if his touch ignites something deep inside me, a fire that blazes hotter every second.

Emotion swirls within me, a tumultuous mix of desire and vulnerability. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing the clash of physical need and raw emotion.

I can taste his breath and feel the rhythm of his pulse against my skin; it’s intoxicating. I want to lose myself in this moment, drown in the sensation of him, forget everything else. My thoughts blur, replaced by the sheer intensity of feeling. It’s all-consuming, a tidal wave of passion that sweeps me away.

He suddenly leans back as if he can sense it, too, but he fears it. I’m struggling to breathe.

“You should go,” he says, his voice low, like he’s scared of what will happen if I don’t.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll get Loki and Luna and … and get a ride back.”

“I’ll have Simone drive you,” he says, walking over to his desk. This time, he stands on the other side of it as if he wants to put it as a shield between us.

“Thank you,” I say, pausing at the door.

He adjusts his shirt. His collar is crumpled from where I must’ve grabbed it in our passion. I can still feel his body imprinted against mine.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” he replies, echoing his text from last night.

“Still, I mean it.”

“I’ll call you when we need you back here,” he says.

“Uh, okay.”

Maybe I should stop questioning this, but I still feel like none of this is happening. Yet the tingling from the kiss is real. The blazing between my legs, my nipples suddenly sore and sensitive against my bra is real. The aftershocks of the Devil’s Breath—the fear, the sleeplessness—all tell me this is real.

I almost leave, but there’s one question I need the answer to. It will make me sound needy as hell, but I can’t stop myself from asking it. “So when will I see you next?”

I try to make it sound casual, almost a throwaway, but I give myself away at the end. My voice hitches, making me seem desperate.

“I’m not sure,” he says, looking down at the desk.

It’s like he thinks I can’t see the outline of his manhood. I can see his muscles pushing against his suit like the beast from last night is trying to escape.

“Well, see you, then.”

When I open the door, my back to him, he says, “Maya means ‘dream.’” A shudder moves through me at the huskiness in his voice, but an instinct stops me from turning. Maybe it’s because I can imagine him smoldering or staring, obsessed. The reality might be blunter. “It fits.”

I leave awkwardly, walking down the stairs, wondering if that was as one-sided as it felt. Even the comment at the end could’ve been to make me feel better. My body burns with every step. Maybe it’s for the best that’s the furthest we ever go. We won’t ever speak about it again. That will be the end of us, a few minutes of steamy passion. Honestly, it’s the most passion I’ve ever experienced.

If that’s it, can it be enough? Can I let him go?

I need to relax. With Mom sick, with the stuff from last night, I’ve got so much to think about—one step, one breath at a time. Let him go like I have him to begin with.

Putting on my game face, I leave the hallway and enter the sanctuary.