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Pushing the thoughts away, I recheck my room and bathroom to ensure I haven’t forgotten anything. Everything seems packed.
I close and stand my suitcase, ready to— “Oh no!”
Easton rushes into my room, faster than seems possible. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Are you? You’re usually calmer.” In fact, I’ve never seen him up and down like this. Playful? Yes. Flirty? Always. Unintentionally vulnerable? A few times.
“I’m usually calmer because I’m not protecting a friend. In fact, I’ve never protected a friend.” His brows tighten. “This is another milestone for me. Adulting like an adult.” He rests his fists at his waist in a Superman stance.
I grab a makeup sponge from the vanity and throw it at his head.
He catches it and throws it back at me.
The soft sponge bounces off my forehead. “Hey! I didn’t hit you.”
“Only because I caught it.”
I rub the spot, even though it doesn’t hurt, and scowl at him.
He smirks. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?” he teases.
I raise a stubborn chin and lower my hand. “Yes.”
His jaw drops for a moment before that devilish grin of his returns. “Oh, Sadie. You should know not to invite my lips anywhere near you.”
His deep voice and the wicked glint in his whiskey eyes sparks tingles in all the right places, particularly my lower region. That look is sinful on him, but with all his charm, he’s never stirred tingles in me. I tell myself it’s because his attention is laser-focused on my wellbeing. It’s sending mixed signals to my body. This will pass. Soon, he’ll turn his charm elsewhere.
“I don’t have gas,” I blurt, remembering why I gasped in panic a moment ago.
His thick brows rise. “Okay,” he draws out slowly, his tone unsure. “Thank you for sharing.”
Oh God! He thinks I’m talking about stomach issues. “I mean I don’t have gas in my car. I never drive it in the city. It’s for road trips only. The last time I took it, I drove it here on fumes because I was too tired to fill it up and just wanted to get home. That and city gas stations suck. I think the oil engine light was on, too.” I nod, my pulse climbing. “It was. How are we going to drive to the farm if my car dies?” So much for remaining calm.
“There’s my little paranoid friend. I wondered where you went.” He rests his hands on my shoulders. “It’s simple. We’ll take the helicopter.”
“Easton!” I march around him and gesture to Detective Pickles’s cage when he follows me into the living room. “I can’t take a hamster on a helicopter. I don’t know how he’ll react. What if he dies from fright? Hamsters do that. And I can’t leave him here for two weeks. Reva likes plants, but she’s afraid of hamsters. We have to drive. I do, anyway. If you want to fly, you can. But I can’t. I can’t!”
He raises his palms. “Okay. We’ll drive, and I’ll take the car to get checked before we leave.”
My shoulders relax. “You will?” Dash never would have offered that. He wouldn’t have been around to.
“Yeah.” He shrugs and grabs the keys from the bowl on the foyer table. “It’s not like it’s a big deal. Are you okay to hang out here while I take care of it? Your complex is pretty safe, but if you’re scared…”
“I’m fine. We’ll be fine.” I gesture to Detective Pickles again.
“Okay. Keep your phone with you, and text me if you need me.”
He leaves.
The silence becomes incredibly noticeable, except for the light bobbing sound of the water bottle where Detective Pickles takes a drink.
“We’re good, aren’t we, little guy?” I say to him. “We’re all good. Right?” I eye the plants on the wall shelves, the tables, and counter. Flowers are lovely, but I prefer succulents, heart-leaf philodendron, and string of pearls. “Be good for Reva while I’m gone. No dead leaves or root rot.”
I laugh at myself, then flinch when a bang sounds on the far wall. My hand cups my throat. I force out a calming breath. Reva’s shower curtain must have fallen again. Her bathroom shares a wall with the corner of my living room. I told her to get one that screws into the wall and have maintenance install it for her. Will is pretty handy, and he’s been working here for over a decade, long before I moved in.
Naturally, I feared him at first. For one thing, I’d never lived on my own in a big city. My paranoia was at an all-time high for a good six months. For another, I’ve seen multiple murder and crime investigation shows where the victim dies at the hands of a security guard or maintenance worker. But after talking with Will and watching—spying on—him with other residents, it became obvious he’s just a harmless older man who cares about this complex as much as I care about plants.
For the most part, my instincts are spot on, but they fail me on occasion. They failed me with Benedict when Everleigh and I met him and his friends in Savannah that one time. They failed me again with this possible stalker. How could I not put two and two together?
