I repeatedly thank him, and when I finally start to pull away from him, I realize he's holding me up. I'm a good eight inches shorter than him, so my feet aren't even touching the ground.
I look at his face, and all I see is warmth. I can see it on his face; molten heat fills his eyes, and I can tell that this moment means as much to him as it does me. Not only can I see it, but I can also feel the lust as if it’s dripping off him. A million tiny tingles scatter themselves throughout my body, the sliver of space between us sparks with want. I can feel my body lean closer. He glances down at my lips, and on impulse, I bite the corner of my bottom lip.
"Geez, Blondie, remind me to tell you good news more often." He wiggles his eyebrows.
If I weren’t already in his arms, I'd swoon.
But the trance is broken as he slowly lets me drop back to the ground. A thought crosses my mind: I've been wanting to ask him to be my date to the Glass Ball.
I'm feeling lucky, so I press my luck.
"So, that ball the school has… I was thinking I'd really like to go. I've never been to a dance or a fancy event. Would you maybe, want to go with me?" My heart pounds in my chest as I draw out the words.
His lips press together in a slight grimace. He leans back on his heels, putting enough space between us to make it feel like a mile.
My luck just ran out. I turn and start to skulk toward the Lofts. He walks with me though, the awkwardness of the moment lingering heavily between us.
"Zella," he starts, but I interrupt him. There's no need for him to let me down easy. I'll just act like it's not a big deal.
It's totally a big deal. I'm so embarrassed.
"You know what? Actually, I think I'm busy that weekend anyway, so don't worry about it. No biggie. Forget I even mentioned it." A shrill of nervous laughter erupts from my throat.
"Blondie, hold up." He reaches for my arm to stop me. My forward movement stops, but I don't twist and look at him. I steady myself, shut my eyes, and take a breath. Then I'm ready; I plaster a smile as big as Texas on my face and look at him.
He scratches his neck, clearly conflicted.
"Fancy events, ball or whatever, aren't really my thing." His eyes are full of remorse, like maybe he wishes they were.
"Oh, no, totes it’s fine. Really," I chirp and wave away the problem with my hand.
"Don't be embarrassed." He's all cool, and I know he's not mocking me right now, but I don't appreciate being called out. Forget embarrassed, now I'm downright annoyed.
"You know what? Actually, this is good. There is this guy in my graphic design class, he mentioned it, so I'll ask him." There's no guy in my graphics design class. Well, there are several, but none I'd want to go out with.
Ryker's jaw ticks at my words. "I thought you just said you were busy that weekend," he bites out.
"Oh, yeah. Well, I'll check my calendar." I shrug my shoulder then force a little bounce in my step and keep on walking. He's quiet but remains by my side. A few short minutes later, we arrive at The Lofts. Ryker puts a hand on my arm, right as I pull out my key card to unlock the door to the building. I look at him over my shoulder.
"I'll think about it. Don't make any rash decisions." His hand drops, and he turns away, clearly not heading back to his room.
I step inside and let the door close behind me.
I don't know how to take his parting words. I don't want to get my hopes up, but I can't really count it a fail. It feels like a maybe, which is always better than a no.
I should be ashamed at how crazy I just acted, but I'm not. I can't fight off the smile as I head up to my suite.
8
Ryker
I carefully open the tower door, then peek in, diverting my eyes to the window Zella normally occupies. But it's empty. I step fully into the room and close the door behind me.
Damn.
I was really hoping she was going to be here. I didn't come up here today to see Zella, but to get the new server password. It would have been a perk had she been here though. I slide my bag onto the empty desk and move to the window with the best view of Cannon's office. I quickly snap a picture and put my phone and monocular into the side pocket of my bag, my focus stuck on her window. I call it 'hers' because there's one of those square, decorative pillows in the windowsill. My lips turn up in a smile. She's made this place her own.
Walking over to the window, I look out to the courtyard and run my fingers over the sequined edge of the pillow. To see what she sees. Why does she love looking out across the campus? Watching all the students go about their day can’t be that exciting.
The woman has me in knots. She's got me spending all my free time looking into her family, not to mention this whole, do I take her to the ball or not matter. The thought of her asking some art geek to the ball grates on my nerves. I don't want to think about this dude with his arms around her, dancing so close to her that he can feel the heat of her breath on his cheek. No, it should be me, I should be the one holding her and by her side when she experiences a fancy event for the first time.
On the flip side, the thought of a tux makes my neck itch. There’s only one jacket I will wear, my brown leather one, which is not fit for a black-tie affair such as the Glass Ball. Being fancy as fuck isn’t my scene.
Zella makes me do things I shouldn't, like this search for her biological parents. It's taking up all my time. So much so, that it was ultimately the nail in the coffin for me not taking the CamU bank account job.
My contact wasn't thrilled when I turned it down. He even offered to up the payout. Shit, the money was so fucking tempting. It really was. I did some research, and in the end, I was only about eighty-five percent sure I would have been able to pull off the job without a hitch. Had I taken the job, I would have done my due diligence and made sure I felt one hundred and ten percent sure beforehand, but the money wasn't enough to sway me.
I've been straddling the line for a few years now. Breaking the law just a little, and I've been okay with that. Until recently. I'll graduate eventually, and I'll have to decide: real-world, law-abiding job, or hacker. Not saying I can't do all three, but a decision will need to be made. Truth be told, the past couple of weeks, trying to find Zella's parents, made me realize using my skills to help feels pretty fucking good.
Not that I want to put on my white hat anytime soon, but I know there are jobs out there, for those who have my skill set, that don't involve breaking the law. But for now, I'll sit here with my gray hat on and continue to straddle the line of good and bad intentions.
For the moment, I'm on the good side. For Zella. I've almost cracked the missing link: the names and location of her birth parents. I'm trying not to rush my way through the process. What I'm doing leaves no room for error, but I can't help but imagine her reaction when I tell her I've found them.
I was telling her the truth that first day when I said this job would be risky. Fucking-A, it is risky. The shit I had to do to find her biological parents was intense. To be clear, I was stealthy and on the top of my game. The riskier the job, the greater the high, that's for sure.