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Chapter 21 - Zach
Last Updated:
2025-07-10 18:12:43
BryantTrial by fire, or as Ofelia calls them, Hurricane Rosario. Zach had been doing well till Jane showed up. This building needs security. Looks like Spitfire is ready to play the role of bouncer.
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The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 21 - Zach
Moving day. I’ve run into burning buildings with less nerves than I had standing in Ofelia’s new apartment, trying not to think about the kiss. The kiss. The one where her hands fisted in my hoodie, her mouth softened under mine, and for ten glorious seconds, the world had narrowed to nothing but her and the sound of my pulse practically exploding in my ears. But now? We were professionals. Adults. Two people keeping our distance in broad daylight while pretending last night didn’t shift the ground beneath us. I busied myself unpacking the bathroom box, listening to Ofelia reorganize the kitchen, and Spitfire glared from her nest like this entire process offended her. The kittens were curled nearby, blissfully unaware of the chaos about to descend. And descend it did, starting with the knock at the door. Ofelia sent me a look, half warning, half bracing, and I opened it to instant Rosario-level pandemonium. Ace waltzed in first, arms full of grocery bags, wearing a grin that pro
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 20 - Ofelia
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 ack
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
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 18 - Ofelia
Sleep didn’t come easily. It never really did anymore, not with the stress of the fire, the kittens yowling at all hours, and the lingering scent of smoke that seemed permanently etched into my sinuses. But last night? That was a different level of restless. Somewhere between exhaustion and frustration, my brain decided to betray me. I dreamed of Zach. Not the panicked, smoke-choked memory of him hauling me out of my apartment, or the awkward near-kiss by the kittens’ nesting box, but a dream version of him. Warm. Steady. Hands lingering on my waist as he laughed in that easy, low voice of his. We were… God, we were having dinner at his place, his real place, similar to the apartment I’d toured, with its high ceilings and soft lighting. It started innocently enough, small talk, good food, playful banter. Then it shifted. One second, I was finishing my drink, the next, Zach was pulling me gently onto his lap, his hands sliding along my thighs as his lips ghosted over mine. The hea
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 17 - Zach
I told myself that showing Ofelia the apartment in my building was logical. Practical. The kind of problem-solving solution I’ve always been good at. She needed a place to stay—one that didn’t smell like stale carpet and frustration. It wasn’t my fault that the place happened to be next door to mine. But as we walked side by side down the block, her freshly signed lease tucked into the folder she hugged to her chest, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t have selfish reasons tangled in there, too. It wasn’t just about her safety, or Spitfire and the kittens. I liked knowing she’d be close. Maybe too much. “Are you sure you’re not secretly in real estate?” Ofelia asked, nudging my elbow with hers as we crossed toward the corner café. Her voice was light, teasing, but I caught the nervous undercurrent hiding beneath it. “Firefighter by day, apartment scout by necessity,” I shot back, holding the door for her as we stepped inside. The place was small—brick walls, chipped tile floors, handwr
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 16 - Ofelia
I took the fastest shower of my life, but not before grabbing fresh clothes from my small stack of salvaged options and ducking into the cramped hotel bathroom like the room itself might judge me for what I was about to do. Okay, I wasn’t about to do anything scandalous. But I was about to stress-change clothes for apartment hunting… and possibly, maybe, hypothetically… catch Zach’s attention. Not that I was admitting that part to myself. The bathroom mirror was streaked, the hotel towels scratchy, and my reflection decidedly frazzled as I towel-dried my curls and tried to make myself look like a woman who had her life together. I didn’t, obviously. My life had been a barely functional pile of chaos ever since my apartment went up in literal smoke, but that didn’t mean I had to look like a disaster. Unfortunately, my wardrobe options were… limited. Most of my nicer outfits hadn’t survived the fire, and what I’d bought after was purely functional: a few basic tops, jeans, leggings,
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