Christmas with a Bad Boy (Feuding Hearts Christmas)

3. Stalking Me

THREE

STALKING ME

SARAIYAH

This place has been my whole world for so long. The thought of losing it terrifies me.

I start my closing routine, wiping down tables and stacking chairs. The quiet of the empty shop wraps around me like a comforting yet suffocating blanket.

But there's another thought, one I barely dare to acknowledge even to myself.

What if losingRuth's Brewisn't the end, but a beginning? What if there's something else out there for me, something that's uniquely mine, not just an inheritance?

The idea sends a thrill through me, followed quickly by a wave of guilt. This shop was my grandmother's dream. Who am I to want something different?

As I finish locking up, my eyes land on the photo of my grandmother that hangs behind the counter. She's smiling, her eyes twinkling with that mischievous spark I remember so well. What would she say if she could see me now?

I touch the frame gently, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I'm trying, Grandma," I whisper. "I really am."

But am I trying to save the shop, or am I trying to save a piece of her? And is there even a difference anymore?

I step out into the cold night air, locking the door behind me. The street is quiet, most of the shops already closed for the night. Christmas lights twinkle in the darkness, casting a soft glow on the snow-dusted sidewalk. I pull my coat tighter around me, feelingthe weight ofthe day settling on my shoulders.

As I turn to leave, a movement catches my eye.

Zaleis standing across the street, his tall frame illuminated by a streetlight. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's just us, locked in this silent exchange.

He doesn't move, doesn't try to cross the street or call out to me. He just stands there, watching. Waiting.

I should turn and walk away. I should ignore the pull I feel toward him, the curiosity that burnsin my chest. But I don't.

Instead, I take a step toward him, then another. As I cross the street, I see his posture change, tension coiling in his body. He's like a predator, sleek and dangerous, and for a moment, I wonder if I'm making a huge mistake.

But I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

I stop a few feet away from him, close enough to see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes. “Stalking me now, Mr. Fulton?" I ask, keeping my tone light despite the hammering of my heart.

His lips quirk up in a half-smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Just admiring the view, Ms. Banks."

The air between us crackles with tension. I'm acutely aware of every inch of space between us, of the way his eyes roam over my face, lingering on my lips.

"It's late," I say, my voice softer than I intended. "Shouldn't you be home?"

He takes a step closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "I could ask you the same thing."

We're standing so close now that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. My skin tingles with awareness, every nerve ending on high alert.Part of mewants to close the distance between us, to see if his lips are as soft as they look. But another part, the part that's been hurt before, holds me back.

"I was just leaving," I say, taking a small step back. The cold air rushes in to fill the space between us, and I suppress ashiver.

Zale'seyes narrow slightly, like he's trying to figure me out. "Let me give you a ride home," he says, his tone making it clear it's not really a request.

I shake my head. "I'm fine. The subway's not far."

"Saraiyah." The way he says my name sends ashiverdown my spine. "It's late, and it's cold. Let me take you home."

I should say no. I should turn and walk away, maintain the distance I've worked so hard to create. But something in his eyes, a flicker of genuine concern, makes me hesitate.

"Okay," I hear myself say. "But just a ride home. Nothing else."

He nods, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Of course."

As we walk to his car, a sleek black vehicle that probably costs more than I make in a year, Ican't help butwonder what I'm getting myself into.Zale Fultonis dangerous in ways I'm only beginning to understand. And yet, here I am, willingly stepping into his world.

The drive to my apartment is quiet, the silence broken only by the softhumof the engine and my occasional directions.Zalekeeps his eyes on the road, but I can feelthe weight ofhis presence beside me, solid and undeniable.

When we pull up in front of my building, neither of us moves to get out. The tension that's been building all day seems to crystallize in this moment, heavy and charged.

The car idles in front of my building, the engine humming softly as the heat builds around us. Neither of us makes a move to get out. It's like we're suspended in this moment, caught in the tension that always seems to spark between us.

I glance over atZale, taking in the sharp lines of his profile, the intensity in his eyes. He's watching me, studying me in that way of his that makes me feel both seen and exposed.

"So," I say, breaking the silence. "Tell me something about you that isn't business-related."

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Like what?"

"I don't know." I shrug, feigning nonchalance even as my pulse quickens. "A hobby or something. Anything that doesn't involve spreadsheets and power plays."

Zalelets out a low chuckle, the sound sending ashiverdown my spine. "You really think I have hobbies, Ms. Banks?"

"Everyone has hobbies," I counter, holding his gaze. "Even the brooding corporate type like you."

"Brooding?" His eyes narrow, but there's no real heat behind it. If anything, he seems intrigued by my teasing. "Alright, fine. I box."

I blink, surprised. "You box?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" He leans back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel. The movement draws my attention to the way his dress shirt stretches across his chest, the outline of toned muscle visible beneath the fabric.

I force my eyes back up to his face, refusing to let him see me flustered. "I just didn't peg you for the athletic type."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." His voice is low, almost a purr, and it sends a thrill through me.

I raise an eyebrow,determinednot to let him rattle me. "Oh, I know more than you think."

Zale'slips curve into a slow, dangerous smile. "Is that so?"

The air in the car seems to thicken, the tension between us crackling like electricity. I'm hyper-aware of every inch of space separating us, of the way his eyes roam over my face, lingering on my lips.

"I'm a pretty good judge of character," I say, my voice dropping to match his. "And you, Mr. Fulton, are an open book."

He leans in closer, his gaze intense. "Then tell me, Ms. Banks. What do you see?"

My breath catches in my throat as he moves nearer, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off his body. His scent surrounds me, rich and intoxicating, and for a moment, I'm tempted to close the distance between us and find out if his lips are as soft as they look.

But then I remember who I am—who we are. I'm not some naive girl who's going to fall for his charms and intensity. I know better than to let myself get swept up in whatever game he's playing.

Forcing a casual shrug, I lean back in my seat, putting some much-needed space between us.

"I see a man who's used to getting what he wants," I say, my voice steady despite thepoundingof my heart. "A man who's accustomed to power and control."

Zale'seyes narrow, but he doesn't pull away. If anything, he seems even more drawn to me, like a predator zeroing in on its prey. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

"And what else?" he prompts, his voice a low rumble that sendsshiversdown my spine.

I hold his gaze, refusing to back down. "I see a man who's dangerous," I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "Not in a way that makes me fear for my safety, but in a way that makes me wonder if you're even capable of letting someone in."

For a moment,Zaleis silent, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leans back, putting some distance between us once more. His fingers drum lightly on the steering wheel, a rare display of restlessness.

"You're right," he says, his voice low. "I am dangerous. But not for the reasons you think."

The words linger between us, heavy with meaning. I feelthe weight ofhis unyielding gaze, and for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability passes through me. But reality snaps back, pulling me out of this charged moment.

I realize I've walked into a live landmine.

I want something more in my life than just my business, but afterAustinstood me up I now find myself in the very expensive car ofZale Fulton. I think it's best to head inside. Because the last thing I need is to give a man likeZalemy heart, only for him to hand it back shattered.

"And with that… I'm heading inside. Thank you for the ride," I say, my hand on the door handle.

Zaleturns to look at me, his eyes intense in the dim light. "Saraiyah," he starts, then pauses, like he's weighing his words carefully. "If you ever need anything... help with the shop, or... anything. You can ask me."

The offer hangs between us, loaded with implications I'm not sure I'm ready to face. I search his face, looking for any sign of an ulterior motive. But all I see is sincerity, and maybe a hint of something else. Something that looks a lot like longing.

"I appreciate that," I say slowly. "But I'm doing fine on my own."

He nods, not looking surprised by my response. "I know you are. But the offer stands."

For a moment, we just look at each other. The air in the car feels thick, charged with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. I'm acutely aware of how close we are, of how easy it would be to lean in, to close the distance between us.

But I don't. Instead, I open the door, letting in a rush of cold air. "Goodnight,Zale," I say softly.

"Goodnight,Saraiyah," he replies, his voice low and warm.

I can feel his eyes on me as I walk up to my building. I don't look back, but I know he's still there, watching, waiting until I'm safely inside.

Once in my apartment, I lean against the closed door, my heart racing. What am I doing?

Zale Fultonis everything I've told myself to stay away from—rich, powerful, complicated. He represents a world I've never allowed myself to want, a life so different from the one I've built for myself.

And yet, I can't deny the pull I feel toward him. It's more than just physical attraction, though that's certainly part of it. Something about him calls to me, making me want to peel back his layers and discover the man beneath the polished exterior.

As I prepare for bed, my mind keeps drifting back to our encounters today. The tension in the coffee shop, the loaded silence in the car. Every interaction feels like we're dancing on the edge of something profound, something that could change everything.

But change is exactly what I'm afraid of. I've worked so hard to build this life, to keepRuth's Brewgoing. Can I really risk it all for a man I barely know?

As I climb into bed, I realize I don't have an answer. All I know is thatZale Fultonhas awakened something in me, something I thought I'd buried long ago. And whether I like it or not, I feel my life is about to get a lot more complicated.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I reach for it, half-expecting it to beZale. Instead, I see a message fromAustin, apologizing for standing me up and asking for another chance. I stare at the screen, feeling a mix of emotions I can't quite untangle.

With a sigh, I set the phone aside without replying. Tomorrow, I'll have to face the reality of my struggling business, the complications of whatever is happening withZale, and nowAustin'srenewed interest.

But for tonight, I let myself drift off to sleep, my dreams filled with intense blue eyes and the promise of something more.