Only for You

38: Anything for My Baby

Sunlight filters into the room, casting a golden glow across the sheets. Fatima stirs, scrunching her nose as the brightness warms her face. Her body aches in the best way possible—a reminder of last night's adventures.

She stretches, letting out a soft yawn before pushing the covers off. The faint sound of sizzling and the smell of bacon and coffee drifts through the suite, making her smile.

She slips her feet into her fur slides, stretching once more before grabbing her robe from the chair. As she ties it around her waist, she turns toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Just as she thought, the view is breathtaking in the morning. The ocean stretches out endlessly, its deep blue waves rolling against the shore. Palm trees sway in the gentle breeze, and the sky is clear, with only a few wispy clouds scattered across it.

But then it hits her.

Her eyes go wide as she glances at the balcony.

Oh. My. God.

She quickly replays last night in her head—the way Zac carried her outside, the way she rode him right there on the lounge chair, the way she screamed his name without a care in the world.

A wave of horror washes over her.

The neighbors definitely saw them.

She inhales sharply before turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.

Zac stands by the island, shirtless in nothing but gray sweatpants, flipping pancakes like he owns the place. His tattoos are on full display, his muscles flexing with every movement. He looks completely at ease, like a man who has no shame.

"Good morning, baby!" he greets her with a grin, placing a few strips of bacon onto her plate.

Fatima narrows her eyes, pointing toward the balcony. "Good morning, babe—do you think the neighbors saw us last night?"

Zac simply shrugs, not even looking up as he pours syrup onto the pancakes. "Probably."

Her jaw drops. "Probably? That's all you have to say?"

He finally looks at her, smirking. "Baby, what you want me to say? If they saw, they saw. Ain't nothing we can do about it now."

She groans, rubbing her temples. "I can't believe this."

Zac slides her plate toward her. "Sit and eat."

She sighs but obeys, taking a seat at the island as he hands her a fork. "I got you cranberry juice," he adds, sliding the glass toward her.

"Thank you," she mumbles, still slightly mortified. "What time did you wake up?"

"Seven," he answers casually. "I even went for a jog. Forgot how nice Miami's weather is in December."

She smirks. "Early bird, huh?"

"Yup." He grins, biting into his bacon.

She takes a deep breath, deciding to let it go. What's done is done, and honestly, it's not like she'd change a thing about last night.

Still, she was avoiding eye contact with their neighbors for the rest of the trip.

He sits down next to her, setting his plate down before turning to face her. "I realized something while I was cooking..."

Fatima, mid-bite, looks at him curiously. "What's that?"

"I never really asked you to move in with me... You've just been spending every day there since our trip to the Maldives."

She raises an eyebrow, setting her fork down. "You want me out?"

Zac chuckles, shaking his head. "Hell no. I want you there, always. Every day. I like it." He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek.