Chapter Six: You. Again?

Zoey’s POV:

At some point, Zach had turned during his questions. His eyes are peering straight into mine. If I had moved my hand slightly, I could have brushed his neck with my fingers. It felt a little too intimate for me.

I get up, not answering any of his questions.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asks; he had stood following my retreating back.

“Just because I don’t want to hang around you doesn’t automatically make it, so I’m in a relationship. It’s not you; it’s the persona of you.”

“My persona? You don’t even know me.” he is placing the leftover containers on the counter next to me.

I smile. “Likewise. And I would like to keep it that way. You stay across the way in your apartment. And I stay in mine. You keep living a glamorous Hollywood lifestyle. And I will stick to the dog world that I have created for myself. Nothing will have to change.”

I pat him on both sides of his chest; it was as if I had short-circuited. I had not thought this through. His pecs are rock hard, and my hands do not want to leave his body. I have a lapse in judgment, and for a second, I’m another crazed woman.

I clear my throat and step away from him. “Thank you, but I think that’s all.”

“You are welcome, Zoey.” And when he says my name, my knees want to buckle, but I stand there trying to act like I am not bothered by him in the slightest.

I open the door for him, and I close it right behind him. I lean into the peephole and watch as he turns around and smiles at my door before he turns back and unlocks his apartment door. The glint in his eyes is what scares me the most because I could drown in them if I’m not careful.

My bed is calling my name. But before I do that, I Google my name. And instead of DogLife being the first thing to appear and tied to my TikTok page, it’s of Zach Rivers and Zoey Michael.

There were pictures of his bodyguards ushering me into his car, pictures of him at DogLife in my office.

A grainy video was posted of him leaning over the dog I had been grooming today.

For the few interactions we had with one another outside of the apartment, all the evidence made it look like we were a couple. My TikTok account had added ten thousand more followers since this morning, and I was assuming it was all because of my neighbor across the way.

I left earlier than normal the following day to make sure that Zach or his men in black would not catch me. Instead of going out the back way, I had gone out the side door. It meant more walking once I got outside, but that was better than being ambushed by the paparazzi.

Before I had fallen asleep, I tried to figure out how Zach had picked my apartment complex. With my social media presence and DogLife taking off as quickly as it had, I was not poor in any sense of the way. But I was no were close to Zach Rivers income. He owned five different houses that I was aware of from my Google stalking. The stalking lasted all three minutes since I felt like it was an invasion of privacy.

I was the boss at work, so I did not have people watching me most days. But today, I had shadows. I would turn around, and the girls who were supposed to be grooming watched me instead.

“What is it?” I had asked, and they just stared at me. I knew it was about him.

At noon on the dot, a delivery driver delivered an order of drunken noodles to me. The note on the lid said, “act as if they taste like leftovers.” It put a brief smile on my lips.

I stepped off the elevator, looking at my phone, when I bumped into Zach. My hands end up on his stomach, bracing myself against him once again since I was not looking where I was going.

“Do you have a bat signal for when I am on my way up? I get running into you one time, but this is just getting creepy now.” My words did not dissuade him from smirking at me. As if he was in on his little inside joke that I did not know about.

“How was your lunch?” He blows right by my insults.

“I didn’t eat it.” I lied. I had half of it, and the rest was sitting in my fridge for lunch tomorrow, but he did not need to know that.

He steps back so I can get around him. And as I’m leaving, I swirl back and look at him. He’s holding the elevator door open, looking my way. “You really need to stay out of my life. You are already causing things to happen, and I need to be able to focus on my job.”

“I would hope good things.” That smile that would melt most women in the spot is back on his face. His eyes were straight on me and nowhere else.

I shake my head. “Not good things. It will just be easier this way. Trust me.” And as on cue, my phone is ringing again. I double-click, and this time I hit block phone number as this was the tenth time this number had called. Since the start of the articles, I was into the double digits for numbers I had to block.

This time his eyes are downcast, and for once, the boyish charm he wears so easily is gone. Concern is easily shown in his eyes, but I cannot do this game that he thinks we are both players in.

I leave him standing by the elevator. It was better this way.