Page 73 of Love JD

She nodded, wide eyes filled with concern. “Yeah, but you decided you were going to call it off, right?”

“I did,” I agreed. “But it looks like Talia beat me to it. It’s a lot worse to get caught in a lie than to own up to it and handle it discretely. Public opinion is going to tear us to shreds, and there’s a chance Azura’s job will suffer because of it, too. It’s a mess.”

“I’m sure,” she murmured. “How can I help?”

I paused in front of my bedroom door, bringing her fingers to my lips and kissing them before rubbing my thumbs over her knuckles. “I wish you could. Wait for me? Could you do that?” I asked, unsure if she would want to hang out in my house alone while I handled this shitstorm.

“What, here?” she asked with a lift of her brows. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” I opened the door and crossed the room to fish out my luggage from the walk-in closet. “I’d be a worried wreck if I thought you were at Robert’s mercy anyway.”

Isla smoothed away a smile with her delicate fingers. “I see.” Her dark, floral dress kissed her legs at mid-thigh, and the skirt swayed gently against her skin as she leaned over and unplugged my charger from the wall for me. “I like being here,” she said, as if confessing a sin. “It’s safe. And comfy. And…” she hesitated.

I yanked the black suitcase off a shelf above the row of hanging button-down shirts and paused, giving her my full attention. “And?”

She crossed her arms over her body, cupping her elbows. “Well… you’re here. I like that.”

Click, click. That combination nearly snapped into place, and my breath swirled around in my chest with a vortex of pressure. I rubbed my breastbone absently. “I think your cuteness might give me a heart attack,” I admitted.

She bubbled out a laugh, rolling her eyes. “How else can I help?”

My eyes darted over her soft curves suggestively. “How attached are you to that dress?”

She shrieked just before I pounced on her.

Chapter twenty-four

Isla

I hit “send” on the email to my professor that contained scanned images of the paper test I’d taken with Zev “proctoring.” I snorted, remembering how he’d insisted he was well-qualified to proctor my exams, and then he’d fingered me during one and been absent for the other three. It hardly mattered, honestly. I took the tests diligently, ignoring the temptation to cheat, and had sent them off to Zev so he could sign the document that identified him as the proctor.

He was so busy, I’d barely talked to him for thirty seconds when I’d bothered him with it. Stretching, I stood from the desk in my room and closed my laptop. My cellphone read ten sixteen pm, and I’d busted my ass getting those tests finished before Monday morning tomorrow, which was the deadline for my finals. My head spun a bit, but I took a sip of iced sports drink from my tumbler. I’d discovered that a certain flavor was more bearable over ice—strawberry banana—and it helped tremendously to sip it throughout the day.

I was determined to keep myself in ideal shape while Zev was gone. For one thing, I didn’t want him worrying about what was going on with my condition while he was frantically trying to help his client and his reputation in Seattle. For another, I just wanted to manage it better. After I’d gotten into a routine of eating something salty every two or three hours, I’d felt like a new woman.

I sauntered into the quiet, dark kitchen to make myself a bowl of instant ramen, and my slippers shushed softly against the hardwood floors as I moved around the shadowy space. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense that I felt completely safe in this house—I’d been assaulted by a crazy reporter here, after all. But something about it being Zev’s house just… clicked. I knew I was safe here. I didn’t have to tiptoe around my awkward roommate or even leave for groceries if I didn’t feel like it. The little farmhouse cottage had wrapped me up in its toasty embrace, and I had no desire to leave that.

The microwave dinged, and I shuffled over to it so I could remove my kimchi ramen with potholders. As I peeled away the plastic top, waving away savory steam, the front door beeped with the sound of the combination being entered on the keypad. Frowning, I crept through the kitchen to lean my head into the front hallway. Shadows crammed every nook and cranny except for the flashing green on the lock pad. With a happy chirp, the door opened.

My heart slammed in my ribs as a male form I didn’t recognize walked through the doorway. Then the hallway light flicked on, and Tristan closed the door behind him. I unraveled the tension in my shoulders with an irritated puff of air. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced up, his light brown hair burnished in the soft Edison bulbs overhead. “You’re awake?”

“Uh, yeah?” I gave him an “okay crazy” look and leaned back into the kitchen to fetch a fork for my ramen. “Again, what are you doing in Zev’s house? I thought you and Azura were going back to Seattle.”

“She did,” he clarified, coming through the hallway to join me in the kitchen. He leaned on the island across from me as I stirred a fork through my ramen. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I gave him an incredulous eyebrow arch. “So, you flew to Denver? We have video calls.”

He blinked in irritation like a pissy owl. “Well, sorry for giving a shit. Jeez.”

I twirled noodles around my fork and lifted them, blowing on the steaming ramen. “I mean, I’m good. Seriously. We’re figuring out my ticks and all that.”

“‘We?’” he clarified. His heterochromatic eyes—one green and one hazel—bounced all over my face. “Who’s ‘we?’”

I avoided his gaze and slurped up a mouthful of noodles. “Royal we,” I said with a full mouth.

“Uh huh.” Tristan narrowed his eyes at me. I slurped up a bigger mouthful and then chewed, smiling blandly. Tristan rubbed a good two days’ worth of stubble on his chin. “Okay, full disclosure, I had an inkling.”

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