Zayne pulled up in front of the Carter’s penthouse a couple of hours later. My car’s headlight dimmed as he turned off the engine, and for a second I missed that Zayne would leave soon. I needed company badly.

“You okay?” I could perceive the concern in his tone.

I nodded, exhaling shakily. “Yeah,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it. My throat felt tight. “How are you getting home without your bike?”

He leaned back in his seat and gave a small shrug. “Already ordered an Uber. It’s on the way.”

I nodded again, the silence pressing down between us. Zayne pushed the door open and...