Page 14 of Fated Shot

When he unlocks his apartment, I expect a model similar to mine, given that we are in the same complex. Boy, I couldn’t have been more wrong. White and gray veined marble covers the entire first floor of his unit, and gigantic glass panes line the full back wall spanning from his expansive kitchen all the way through to the living room. To the right of the entryway, I notice a set of floating stairs leading up to some sort of loft. The entire place looks like it was plucked straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog.

“Wow, this is so nice,” I remark. Suspiciously clean too, likeI have a girlfriendclean.

“Oh thanks, yeah, I moved here last year. I like it,” he says before popping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

Not likely, but I slide off my crocs in the entryway, lining them up next to his Converse, and gently sit on the edge of hiscouch. The moment I stop to rest, I’m fighting the urge to crash right then and there. With the exhaustion and panic that have been swirling in my body now at bay, I’m officially left with zero energy. I swear this couch is comfier than my bed. I let out a yawn as Jack hands me a bottle of water.

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” I say as I grab the bottle from him, “thank you.” He nods and walks over to the other end of the couch before stretching out slightly.

“Thanks for picking up, I-I promise I’m not always this…helpless. I’m really sorry if I’m ruining your night.” I send an apologetic glance in his direction.

His expression is sincere as he smiles calmly at me, “I’m glad you called.”

“Did you have big plans?”Like with a very clean and gorgeous girlfriend?“Ya know, besides rescuing a desperate neighbor?”

“I was sleeping, actually,” he grins sheepishly at me. My momentary relief is bodied by a wave of guilt.

“Oh my gosh, of course you were. It’s late. I’m so sorry. Go to bed,” I say, zipping off the couch and pulling his arm. “I promise I’ll just sit on the couch. You won’t even know I’m here, and in the morning, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Despite my excess of effort, his body remains static. I swear I hear him chuckle at my frustration as I give up, dropping his arm.

“You take the bed, I’m comfortable out here.”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed!” I respond, my voice coming out squeaky and panicked. I seriously need to get my tone in check. He arches an eyebrow in amusement.

I flop back down on the couch, exasperated.

“I’m comfy right here.” I make a point to settle deeper into the cushion that begins morphing around my body. Another yawn slips out as I look back at Jack. He shakes his head almostsmiling to himself as he grabs the remote from the armrest beside him, and flips on the ridiculously large TV in front of us.

Turning my attention to it, I try not to focus on his handsome face as he scrolls through the TV guide—a difficult feat, for sure. Sportsnet plays in the background, and I’m thankful for the faint chatter of the sportscasters. It fills the silence, like calming white noise.

I’m so tired, and the sudden shift from panic to comfort has already taken its toll on me. My body sinks deeper into Jack Brody’s couch, and before I know it, my eyes close, and I fall sound asleep.

As the sound of my alarm blares through the apartment, my eyes dart open. It takes me a full minute to get my bearings before I sit up and try to reach around for my phone. I’m… warm? Looking down, I whip off the Tundra blanket that’s draped over me as the search for my phone continues. It’s still dark outside, but the lights of the city shine through the window as the first speckles of morning light start to paint the sky.

Standing up, I head toward the small glow of a screen on the kitchen counter. Pressing the End button on my alarm, I notice the battery is at one hundred percent.He charged my phone for me?Unplugging it, I turn to look around the room.

The spot where I was lying down looks disheveled, with the massive blue blanket half draped on the floor. The last spot where I saw Jack, however, is in perfect condition, remote back in its space on the armrest, and a neatly folded blanket on the cushion. I tiptoe through the living room, leaning my head down the little hallway to the open bathroom door. Empty. Taking a few steps up the hardwood stairs, I peek into the loft. Similar to the rest of the apartment, it’s meticulously tidy, with a king-size bed, a carefully tucked duvet, and four giant fluffy pillows lined up across the headboard. Also empty.

He’s gone? Okay, he’s gone. Irish goodbye, easy enough. I step into the living room, grabbing the fuzzy blanket and trying to fold it neatly. As I smooth it out on the couch, a soft beep from the door makes me freeze. My head snaps up just as Jack walks in.

He’s wearing the same black t-shirt, but this time with black shorts showcasing his thick legs. I shamelessly watch his muscles compress as he steps forward, raising my eyes slowly to meet his.

“Morning,” I manage through my not-so-subtle gawking.

A gentle smile emerges. “Sleep okay?”

How does he look this perfect right now? I nod, clearly unable to formulate words. He knocks off his shoes one at a time, and I watch as he lines them back up neatly by the door with his foot. The slight curls in his deep brown hair are resting perfectly on his forehead, framing his sculpted face.

“I got you a coffee,” he says, handing me a warm cup.

“You did not have to do that. That is so nice,” I say, reaching for it happily as I take a step closer. My hand lightly grazes his as I grab it, sending a shockwave through my body.

His eyes widen at the contact, but he recovers with a casual shrug. “No biggie.” I feel his blue eyes on me even after I break contact and take a quick sip.

The subtly sweet flavor instantly warms me the moment it hits my tongue. As the caffeine enters my system, making me feel more lively, the realization sets in.

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