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Chapter 15 - Zach

Penulis: Bryant
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-04 18:23:36
The flickering glow of the candles danced across Ofelia’s face, softening her already soft edges, highlighting the faint flush in her cheeks as she laughed at something I barely heard. We were at my apartment.

Her plate sat empty on the table between us, the remnants of takeout scattered like we’d devoured it without thinking. The cheap little bodega bouquet I’d picked up sat in a glass jar by the window, the flowers were crooked, but she hadn’t stopped smiling since she walked in.

God, she was radiant when she smiled like that.

Her curls were loose around her shoulders, eyes bright, biting her lip when our gazes held a little too long. The world outside my windows barely existed. Just her and me, a tiny apartment that smelled like dinner, and the dangerous tension pulsing between us.

I reached for her hand across the table. Her fingers slid easily into mine, warm, familiar in a way they had no right to be.

“You’re staring,” she teased softly.

“Can’t help it.” I squeezed her han
Bryant

Well that was a fun dream till he woke up and wussed out on asking her on a proper date. The Frost boys and Collin would give him so much grief if they were around.

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Melissa Brown
Great chapter
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    Two days later, life had fallen into a weird, barely functional routine. I wouldn’t call it stable, not when I was still living in a glorified motel room with carpet I didn’t trust barefoot and a lingering smell of industrial-strength lemon cleaner, but it was functional. Zach’s schedule rotated between his shifts at the firehouse and sneaking in time to hover over me and the kittens. At the same time, I juggled my residency, classes, and the constant worry that my bank account was preparing to sue me for emotional distress.It wasn’t ideal. But somehow, it worked. Except staying in a cramped, overpriced hotel indefinitely? That wasn’t a real plan.Which is how I found myself standing in the leasing office of Zach’s building, nervously twirling a pen between my fingers as I signed my name on the rental agreement for apartment 3F. The keys jingled as the landlord handed them over, and I stared at them for a second longer than I should’ve, like they might spontaneously combust if I ackn

  • The Purrfect Wingman   Chapter 19 - Zach

    The morning started quietly. Suspiciously quiet. After Ofelia rushed out for work, leaving behind a flurry of textbooks, coffee remnants, and faint traces of that floral shampoo I was trying way too hard not to think about, I figured kitten duty would be a breeze. Feed the queen, keep the towel nest clean, snap a few pictures to update Ofelia, maybe nap on the other bed. Easy. Except nothing with Spitfire was ever easy. She watched me like a strict supervisor, those amber eyes narrowed, her tortie expression stuck somewhere between “you’re barely qualified for this” and “don’t screw it up, human.” The kittens, meanwhile, were living their best chaotic lives. Mochi had claimed my hoodie strings as her personal jungle gym, latching on with her tiny murder mittens and glaring like she could take me in a fight. Which, considering she weighed about as much as a sandwich, was impressive confidence. Zach: Mochi says my hoodie strings are now hers. Attached: The tiniest, angriest black

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  • The Purrfect Wingman   Chapter 15 - Zach

    The flickering glow of the candles danced across Ofelia’s face, softening her already soft edges, highlighting the faint flush in her cheeks as she laughed at something I barely heard. We were at my apartment. Her plate sat empty on the table between us, the remnants of takeout scattered like we’d devoured it without thinking. The cheap little bodega bouquet I’d picked up sat in a glass jar by the window, the flowers were crooked, but she hadn’t stopped smiling since she walked in. God, she was radiant when she smiled like that. Her curls were loose around her shoulders, eyes bright, biting her lip when our gazes held a little too long. The world outside my windows barely existed. Just her and me, a tiny apartment that smelled like dinner, and the dangerous tension pulsing between us. I reached for her hand across the table. Her fingers slid easily into mine, warm, familiar in a way they had no right to be. “You’re staring,” she teased softly. “Can’t help it.” I squeezed her han

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