CHAPTER 207

**WINTER**

I was stuck. 

Quite literally.

Claire had passed out on my left like she hadn’t just steamrolled Ariel into staying the night. 

Ariel was curled up on my right, awkwardly clutching a throw pillow like a life raft. 

And me? 

I was the unfortunate one wedged between them, staring at the ceiling like it held answers.

It didn’t.

All it gave me was silence.

I sighed and shut my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. 

After a few restless minutes, my eyes fluttered open again, the faint glow of the nightlight painting soft, shifting shadows across the ceiling.

Too much noise in my head. Too many thoughts.

And no room left for sleep.

Not from the girls—though Claire did kick in her sleep and Ariel murmured something about burnt toast—but from the list.

That stupid list.

Names of people who might be messing with me. It was almost laughable now—most didn’t make sense. 

Cindy? 

Damien? 

Random classmates I barely remembered? 

None of them fit.

But one name kept clawing at the edges of my mind like a whisper I couldn’t ignore.

Ethan.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

About him. 

About how his name kept feeling like a splinter under the skin—small but impossible to ignore.

Was it really him? 

Could he be the one sending those messages? 

Watching me?

He hadn’t been seen since that night—the night everything spiralled.

The night he tried to hurt me.

And stupid me... I actually believed he was in jail. 

Dad said he was, and assured me it was over.

But that was a lie.

He wasn’t locked up.

He wasn’t even accounted for.

He was missing.

No social media posts.

No college attendance.

No trace.

Just... gone.

And somehow, that silence was louder than anything else.

I blinked at the ceiling, my chest heavy. 

Claire rolled in her sleep and smacked me square in the face with her arm.

Again.

I groaned softly, rubbing my cheek—only for her to mumble, 

“Shut up, Ro… you talk too much…” before snuggling deeper into the blankets.

I couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out. 

Even in her dreams, she was still arguing with him.

I sighed and carefully untangled myself, inch by inch, like I was trying to escape a crime scene without setting off alarms.

My bare feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and I stood there for a second, letting the cool air wrap around my arms, and then turned toward the door. 

The hallway was dark, quiet except for the faint hum of a TV somewhere. 

And then I saw him.

Zion.

He stepped out of his room at the exact same time, like we’d been drawn by the same invisible thread. 

His button-up shirt was wrinkled, the top two buttons undone, revealing just a hint of toned chest. 

His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times, and a faint shadow of tension still lingered along his jaw.

And somehow—he still looked annoyingly gorgeous. Like he’d stepped straight out of a dream with a touch of chaos and just enough edge to make your heart forget how to beat properly.

His gaze found me the second I stepped into the hallway, and just like that, his whole expression shifted—eyes warming, lips curving into that slow, crooked smile that always made my stomach twist most frustratingly.

“Well, look who’s haunting my hallway,” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep, low and lazy. 

“Can’t sleep without saying goodnight to me, huh?”

I blinked, pulse stuttering, caught off guard by how soft and unfairly attractive he looked in the dim light.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, trying to sound casual—but my voice came out a little too breathless.

Zion pushed off the doorframe, that infuriating smile still playing on his lips as he crossed the short distance between us.

“Clark’s snoring like a dying walrus. Ro and Harry hijacked my TV and started watching some war movie in full volume like it’s a cinema.” He gave a small shrug. 

“Figured I’d escape before I killed one of them.”

I let out a breathy laugh, one I didn’t even know I’d been holding. 

“Sounds like chaos.”

He stepped even closer, his presence already chasing away the chill. 

“You okay?”

I hesitated, my eyes dropping to the list still echoing in the back of my mind. 

“Yeah. Just… thinking too much.”

Zion didn’t push. 

He didn’t need to. 

The look in his eyes said he already knew.

And somehow, that made it easier to breathe.

I shifted on my feet, feeling the silence stretch between us. 

My heart was still restless from the thoughts I couldn’t shake—about Ethan, about everything—but Zion standing there made it easier to breathe.

“I was just heading to one of the guest rooms,” I said softly, folding my arms around myself.

“It’s getting a little crowded in my bed…” I added with a small, sheepish smile.

Zion stepped closer, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, hands casually tucked in his pockets.

“Funny,” he murmured, voice smooth and teasing, 

“I was heading to the guest room too.”

I narrowed my eyes, arching a brow.

“Oh yeah! Which guest room? You’ve got, like, ten in this mansion of yours.”

He smirked, tilting his head like he was about to share a secret.

“First off—minor detail—but this is our house, not just mine.”

My lips parted to reply, but he kept talking before I could get a word in.

Then, with a playful sparkle in his eyes, he leaned in just a little closer.

“And second—whichever guest room you pick, I’m crashing there too. Just in case you get lonely..… or maybe need a hug… or who knows, maybe a kiss—because, well, I am pretty irresistible.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden tease, my cheeks heating up faster than I expected. I glanced away, trying to play it cool, but my heart was definitely doing backflips.

Zion’s grin widened, that mischievous sparkle lighting up his eyes. He took a small step closer, voice dropping to a soft murmur.

“Is that a blush I see... Snowflake? Are you blushing?”

I shook my head, but he didn’t let it go. 

Instead, he reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Zion…”

My voice was barely above a whisper as he reached out, trailing a single finger gently over my lips. 

His eyes held mine, steady and unblinking, full of quiet certainty.

“Shhh,” he whispered, voice warm and low.

“I don’t want to stay away—not when my mind’s racing with thoughts of you. Wondering if you’re okay, if you’re scared... or if some sick bastard has sent you another message. It’s like a weight I can’t shake. So, for my peace of mind, for both our sakes, just let me stay with you tonight. Let me be your shield, your company… whatever you need.”

His voice dropped even softer, a quiet intensity weaving through every word. 

I felt my heart thudding in my chest, a flutter of warmth spreading through me. My breath hitched, caught somewhere between surprise and something deeper—comfort, maybe even something like hope.

Without thinking, I reached out and squeezed his hand gently.

“Okay,” I whispered, a small smile tugging at my lips.

I let out a soft sigh and started down the hallway.

“But don’t think you’re hogging all the blankets.”

He grinned, eyes dancing with mischief, that signature crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright… but if I get cold, I’ll just have to hold you for warmth. Sound good?”

He leaned in slightly, voice dipping into a teasing murmur.

“Or maybe I’ll just pretend I’m cold… You know, for cuddling purposes. Purely survival instincts, of course.”

He winked, like he hadn’t just turned my entire brain to mush.

I felt my cheeks flush instantly, heat crawling up my neck as I crossed my arms in a weak attempt to look unbothered.

“Wow,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. 

“Look at you, already plotting ways to steal cuddles. Bold move, Zion.”

He just wiggled his eyebrows in response, clearly enjoying himself.

I turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see the small, ridiculous smile tugging at my lips.

“Just don’t snore,” I muttered, already walking toward the bed. 

“Or I’m kicking you out.”

My heart, however? Yeah—definitely not as tough as I was pretending to be.

Zion laughed softly, the sound low and way too smug.

“No promises, Snowflake,” he said, following behind me with that infuriatingly confident stride. 

“But if I do snore, feel free to shut me up with a kiss.

I stopped mid-step, my breath hitching at the weight of his words.

A kiss?

I glanced back at him over my shoulder, a half-smirk tugging at my lips as I fought the flush rising in my cheeks.

But I stayed quiet. He was enjoying this way too much already.

As I stepped into the hallway, Zion matched my pace easily, his shoulder brushing mine.

Then, without a word, he reached out and took my hand.

My breath hitched.

I looked down at our joined hands, his fingers rough and warm around mine, like it was the most natural thing in the world… and yet it made my heart do something stupid in my chest.

He caught the look I gave him—half startled, half flustered—and smirked, his voice soft but cocky in that way only he could manage.

“What? You’re my girl,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

“Pretty sure I made that loud and clear earlier. So, I’m allowed to hold my girl’s hand, right?”

I nodded—because what else was I supposed to do? 

Words felt like they might crack in my throat if I tried to use them.

But inside?

Inside it felt… warm.

Safer.

Better than nice.

Like the entire world had narrowed down to just the weight of his hand in mine and the quiet hush of our steps echoing down the hallway.

And for once, I didn’t want to run from that feeling.

Not even a little.

The guest bedroom I picked was the one tucked at the end of the hall, the one with tall windows and navy walls. It was cosy but spacious, and more importantly, it had only one bed. I hesitated at the door for half a second before pushing it open.

The moment the door creaked open, he slipped past me and sprawled out on the bed with a theatrical flop.

“Claiming this side,” he declared, patting the space next to him with a grin. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless provoked.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his teasing, but a small smile tugged at my lips.

He then furrowed his eyebrows, giving me a slow once-over, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You… um… do you always sleep in jeans and a t-shirt?” Zion asked, his voice playful but curious.

I glanced down at my outfit and let out a quiet sigh, a faint flush creeping up my cheeks.

“No,” I admitted softly. 

“I just crashed like this earlier, and Claire woke me up by smacking me right in the face. Didn’t even realise I hadn’t changed until now.”

I hesitated by the door, biting my lip.

“Maybe I should go back and grab my pyjamas…”

I looked up at him, a little unsure but hopeful.

“Or… maybe you have something I could borrow? Like an old t-shirt or something?”

He swallowed hard, eyes locking onto mine with a slow, smouldering intensity.

With deliberate ease, he pushed himself up from the bed, that confident smile spreading across his face like a secret.

His fingers started undoing the buttons of the shirt he wore—one by one—each movement slow, teasing.

“Yeah,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. 

“I’ve got something for you.”