I close the app, my jaw tight.
What is she doing?
That question circles relentlessly.
Out with friends? Laughing with Aaron? Sitting somewhere sunny and carefree, not thinking about me at all?
The thought twists something sharp and unwelcome in my chest.
I shove my hands into my pockets and pace.
I could check on her. Casually. Without the mask.
Just… walk by. Make sure her house hasn’t burned down. See if she’s made progress with Mr. Pickles, the mangy, possibly rabies-infested cat. I mean, he’s a stray. He could rabidly attack her.
Entirely reasonable concerns.
I freeze.
I am absolutely no longer a reasonable man.
I open the closet where I hid the hoodie, gloves, and mask after Friday night’s fiasco. My clothing was a little dirty from the trash. All of it needs to be washed… but I can’t let Drew see it.
My pulse ticks up. I can just imagine Drew telling everyone he knows about my nefarious masked adventures.
Hell, he’d probably post anonymously on the community Facebook page.Remember when Sebastian Locke losthis mind and bought a ski mask? Not to ski, but to stalk his stalker. Imagine that!
I close the closet, my heart beating faster. I need to wash it and get it back to my car without him seeing.
Later.
The voice in my head argues,No, now. So you can go see?—
I cut the thought off, stepping back from the closet.
No. I don’t need to go see her.
My hands curl into fists.
I don’t need her.
I just… miss the way she fills the quiet.
That’s all.
I move to the balcony doors and push them open, letting the cold air rush in. I step outside, scanning the yard, the woods, the path that leads to her house.
Nothing.
I exhale slowly.
This is fine.
It’s healthy.
This is what boundaries look like.
And yet, as I stand there alone, staring at the empty space where sheshouldbe, one truth settles in with brutal clarity: it’s the waiting that’s driving me crazy.
