I give him another moment before I knock again.
Still, no answer.
Pulling out my phone, I dial, inevitably giving him my number. His phone is loud enough that I can hear it ring in his apartment, on the other side of this door, but it continues to go unanswered until I reach his voicemail.
I give the door one more loud knock, just to be sure, but still, there’s no answer.
I’m not going to lie. My heart is pounding, and not because I think something might be wrong with him. The guy seems unbreakable. Untouchable. But even though Zanders was persistent about tonight, did he change his mind? Is he regretting asking for more already?
My cheeks are flush, and my stomach is twisting with embarrassment as I turn back to the elevator to go back home, but halfway down the empty hall, I stop in my tracks. If he wants to bail on me, he can say it to my face. He’s so adamant about me standing up to people? Well, that’s precisely what I’m going to do. Besides, of anyone in my life, I’m somehow able to stand up to him without fear or worry.
Without overthinking it any longer, I take confident strides back down the hall, twist the knob, and surprisingly open the unlocked door. But as soon as I walk into his penthouse, I instantly regret it.
It’s intimidating, dark, masculine, and just very much him. The ceilings are high and expansive, making it feel like they never end. I’m in a space I shouldn’t be privy to without him.
“Stevie?”
Snapping my head around, Zanders stands down the hallway in nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips. A bit of moisture lingers on his golden-brown skin as steam rolls off in the air around him. The shadowed concaves of his muscles are even deeper thanks to the low lighting in the dark hall.
“Shit.” He tightly holds the towel around his waist as he takes a couple of steps down the entryway, coming into view. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the door, and I lost track of time.”
The closer he gets, the more evident his exhaustion is. “Are you okay?” I ask, brows furrowed, and any frustration towards him wholly abandoned.
He gives me a sad half-smile, telling me he’s absolutely not okay. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that, but I’m really happy you’re here.”
I walk into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, before pressing my cheek against his warm, wet chest. He sighs into me, snaking his free arm around my shoulders and holding my body to his. I can feel every muscle in his tight frame relax around me before he rests his head on mine.
I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s upset.
“You let yourself in,” he quietly notes.
“I was coming to yell at you for forgetting about me.”
“As you should.” His body vibrates from a silent laugh before he squeezes me even tighter. “But I could never forget about you, sweetheart.”
I run a soothing hand up and down his bare back.
“Can you give me a minute? I’ll be right out, but I should get some clothes on.”
“I don’t mind you naked.”
Another laugh shakes my body as Zanders relaxes. “Make yourself at home. There’s beer in the fridge.”
He runs a hand over my curls, brushing them out of the way before he walks his gloriously stunning body around the corner and back to his room.
Alone in his space once again, but feeling a bit more welcomed, I take my coat off and hang it on the hooks by his front door before kicking off my snow-covered sneakers that are far too used to be worn in his clean place.
I wander into the kitchen, needing that beer Zanders offered, and when I open the fridge, I can’t help but smile to myself when I find one of the shelves lined with multiple different IPAs. Instinctively, I know the plethora of options is solely for me.
I’m good with any and all, so I pop the top of one and take it with me on my self-guided tour.
Zanders’ penthouse is stunning. Dark wood, concrete, black metal, and low lighting decorate the masculine area. It’s moody, expensive, and intriguing. It’s one of those places you get inspiration from in a magazine or featured on a Pinterest board. Not a single thing is out of order. It’s very much him, and I look entirely out of place.
Passing by the long hallway Zanders ducked down, I turn the opposite way, finding his living room. His couches are large and deep-set, his television is massive, and his pictures are perfectly coordinated in black and white.
The images are mostly him and Maddison’s family, but there is one of him and who I would guess to be his sister. Zanders has mentioned her once, and they look eerily similar. Though, I do notice not a single photo has his dad present. I know they have a rocky history, as he does with his mom, but I guess I didn’t realize his relationship with his father was as lacking as it is in these photographs.