He's an old friend.(Ahab POV.)

"Zachariah?! Is that you!?" I ask the newcomer's voice, the volume of my question excessive due to my adrenal glands pumping in overdrive. When I turn around to investigate, I come face to face with him: A sexy, six-foot-three man, with blonde hair, a perfectly tailored suit, a thin yet powerful frame, and the eyes of a killer.

My eyes burst open. Holy crap! It is Zachariah— my high school crush! Although it was years ago now, and he'd become an extremely successful man since, I still remember the days when he was my best friend.

He's taken aback somewhat when he sees me, and the comely man blocking the perverted tourist replies, "Ahab?! I should've known— this could only happen to you."

I utter moronically.

Our days of steadfast inseparability ended when I confessed my feelings to him. Because Zachariah is straight, like flaming straight, he wasn't ready to hear those words— not from his closest friend. We hadn't stopped hanging out or anything, but an unrequited confession can really strain a friendship, and after high school, we'd barely kept in touch.

This is my first time seeing him in over six months, and I'm frozen with an unholy cocktail of surprise and embarrassment; I've hesitated speaking long enough that he's already looked away. At present, Zachariah's flicking through the photos on the Chinese girl's phone, an expression of schadenfreude overtaking his striking features. I flush scarlet, oh my God, he's looking at my candid nudes— he's looking at my penis! Why is he smirking like that?!?!

After giving a long, clean, whistle that makes my head spin and my heart palpitate, he thumbs the screen and says, "Deleted."

The blond hunk places the cellular device back in the mitts of its owner and allows her to egress, as he stalks in my direction— seemingly full of purpose. I hasten to cover up more of my body, still a mortified wreck over how much of my skin is exposed to the entire lobby,—especially to him—but my childhood companion moves past with nary a glance my way.

Instead, Zachariah bends down over an **** Natalie and snaps in front of her dazed countenance to rouse her. Two-hundred pounds of flustered, raw muscle convulse to life, still blushing sanguine. My cute manager looks up at Zachariah, and says: "I wasn't sleeping, I just blacked out," as if he'd asked her anything, which he had not.

"Well, I'd prefer if you didn't faint on the job, either."

Natalie's eyes drift from her boss, over to my scarcely-covered form; her pretty visage burns red when she inadvertently eyes the tantalizing bulge my towel fails to obscure. I throw my hands down in front of my crotch, and blush burgundy as she says, "I'll try, boss, but that request might be impossible."

"I don't know how you could have trouble not fainting. I mean, you're wearing a bikini in a lobby, and you just black out?? How could you…? Well, whatever— I have a job for you two." Zachariah reasserts himself as he pulls a slip of paper with a room number out from his suit pocket, "and I need it done, pronto. There's a VIP on the fourth floor who needs their bags yesterday."

"G-got it boss! We won't disappoint you!"

"But I'm still naked— uh, not dressed." I interject.

The sexy man looks me dead in the eyes, and asks, with ice in his words, "And, Ahab? You're being punished, you realize?"

Peering over my shoulder, I find a couple of women whispering into each other's ears and pantomiming groping me; feeling truly unsafe, as well as humiliated, I posit my anxiety to Zachariah, "Okay… it's just, I've been attacked already."

Our handsome boss hands us the chit and tries to assuage my fears, "Don't sweat it, Ahab, even if your punishments aren't done yet, you'll be fine. Just deliver the bags to this room number, and you can get dressed."

A licentious young woman wolf whistles at me, and through the deafening din of blood in my ears, I say, "Yeah, but—"

Before I can finish protesting, we hear a familiar sound.

Click, clack, click, clack.

Three heads rotate toward that sensual echo, and three faces light up, mine like the Vegas strip: Ming Zhao has returned, and she is—beyond all laws of physics—walking with her trademark clicking step despite being barefoot on a carpeted floor. The beauteous businesswoman smirks back at us, but when Zachariah meets her intelligent eyes…