Chapter 171 Close Enough

Estelle’s POV

My face burned with embarrassment as I stood frozen in the doorway. Zayne held my clothes in his hands, my lace underwear sitting right on top of the pile like some kind of mortifying display.

“I—” I started, but no other words came out.

Zayne’s expression remained perfectly calm. Not a hint of embarrassment or awkwardness crossed his features. He looked as composed as if he were holding a stack of newspapers instead of my intimate clothing.

“I was passing by and noticed these on your bed,” he said simply. “I thought you might need them.”

His voice was steady and matter-of-fact. Meanwhile, I felt like my entire body was on fire.

“Thank you,” I managed to squeak out, rushing forward to take the clothes from him.

The moment our fingers brushed as he handed over the stack, a pleasant shock ran through my hand. The sensation traveled up my arm and made my heart skip a beat. I jerked my hand back slightly, nearly dropping the clothes in the process.

Zayne’s eyes flickered, but his expression remained neutral.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room,” he said, already turning toward the door.

I clutched the clothes to my chest and practically dove into the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror showed exactly what I expected—flushed cheeks and wide eyes that screamed of a woman who was definitely not acting like herself.

What was wrong with me? I had been married to Asher for years. I shouldn’t be getting flustered over something as simple as a man seeing my clothes.

But this felt different. Everything with Zayne felt different.

I dressed quickly, pulling on comfortable leggings and an oversized sweater. When I emerged from the bathroom, I found Zayne sitting on the couch with the remote in his hand. He had already selected a movie and was waiting patiently.

“Better?” he asked, glancing up at me.

“Much better,” I replied, settling onto the couch.

I chose a spot that left a reasonable amount of space between us. Close enough to be sociable, but far enough away that I wouldn’t embarrass myself further.

Zayne noticed the distance immediately. He tilted his head slightly, a hint of amusement in his electric blue eyes.

“Why are you sitting so far away?” he asked. His tone was innocent enough, but there was definitely a teasing edge to it.

“I’m not sitting far away,” I protested.

“You’re practically on the other end of the couch,” he pointed out.

Before I could argue further, he reached over and gently pulled me closer. His arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me against his side.

I should have felt nervous. I should have pulled away or made some excuse about needing more space. Instead, I found myself relaxing into his warmth. Something about being in his arms felt incredibly natural and comfortable.

This was new for me. With Asher, everything had felt like I was walking on eggshells. Even in our early days when he was sweet and romantic, there was always an underlying sense that his affection came with conditions.

I had to be grateful. I had to be accommodating. I had to go along with whatever he wanted because he had chosen me despite my flaws.

We watched movies he liked. We adopted Finn because Asher brought him home. We lived in the house at the border because Asher wanted peace and quiet. I rarely voiced what I actually wanted.

With Zayne, I felt seen. Even though our marriage was supposed to be transactional, he paid attention to details about me that Asher never noticed.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Zayne asked suddenly.

I realized I had been unconsciously snuggling closer to him, my body fully relaxed against his side.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “I just noticed you picked a thriller movie. I didn’t know you liked this genre.”

“I don’t particularly,” Zayne admitted. “But I noticed you have quite a few mystery and thriller novels on your bookshelves. I figured you might enjoy it.”

My heart did a little flip. He had been here for about an hour, and he already noticed this.

“You noticed that?” I asked, surprised.

“I notice a lot of things about you,” he said simply.

Before I could process that statement fully, Zayne stood up from the couch.

“Wait here,” he said. “I have something for you.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying a small white bakery box. He set it down on the coffee table and opened it to reveal a perfect slice of chocolate cake.

My eyes widened. “Where did this come from?”

“I had Mason deliver it while you were in the shower,” Zayne explained. “I remembered you mentioned liking sweets.”

The gesture was so thoughtful and unexpected that I felt my throat tighten with emotion. When was the last time someone had done something like this for me just because they wanted to make me happy?

“Thank you,” I said softly, accepting the fork he handed me.

I settled back into his arms and took a bite of the cake. It was rich and decadent, exactly the kind of dessert I used to love before Jessie started making comments about my weight and before I started worrying about the expense of such treats.

The sweetness exploded across my tongue, and I couldn’t help but smile.

After a few bites, I found myself holding out the fork toward Zayne. “Do you want to try some?”

I froze the moment the words left my mouth. Was this too intimate? Were we crossing some invisible line from our business arrangement into something more personal?

But before I could second-guess myself or pull the fork back, Zayne leaned forward and took a bite directly from my fork.