“Back when I found the first one in Ray’s house,” he began slowly, “and then Ray found one on his own…you remember how everyone started thinking that Ray was a serial killer?”
“Yes? And—” I gasped, snatched my hand off his neck, and slapped it on his chest instead, giving him a little shove. “Don’t you dare accuse me of being a murderer.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it.”
“I think lots of things about you, Charlie.”
“Sexy things! Not…not things like, I wonder if he’s a killer?”
“Not all sexy things, either,” he said. “To be fair.”
“Um?” I glared at him, eyebrows as high as they could go. “Care to expand on that?”
“Dunno. Doesn’t look like it would be a good move on my part, does it?”
“I doubt you can say anything that’s worse than,Are you a serial killer?”
“I didn’t say it. All I said was, people suspected Ray. And I was thinking, they never suspected you.”
“Of course they didn’t!”
“All right.”
“Why would they?”
“You’re taking this very personally.”
“Because my boyfriend just said people should have suspected me of being a serial killer. It’s hard not to take that personally!”
He tilted his head to one side. “Are we fighting?”
“No. I’m telling you off.”
“Mhm. I think you’re picking a fight. I never said peopleshouldhave suspected you. I said that they neverdid. That was all. It was an observation. Maybe you should calm down.”
“I don’t believe I will.”
He shifted his weight. “I could make you calm down.”
“You absolutely can’t.”
“Sounds like a challenge. You get right chilled when I bang the sass out of you.”
“Historically, perhaps. You won’t be doing that today.”
“Won’t I.” He said it flatly, with no questioning inflection at all.
“You will not.” I took a step back, and froze when he mirrored it, stepping forwards.
We locked eyes.
The air in the garage was heavy with tension. My pulse picked up speed. I was willing to bet Kevin’s didn’t even skip a beat. He was in focus mode. Kevin in focus mode was truly terrifying to behold.
It blew my mind that most people would look at him and think, there goes Kevin Wallis. No imagination. Not much going on between the ears. Give him a kettlebell or a pint and he’s a happy boy.
Anyone who thought that was so, so wrong.
