Page 291 of Trick or Stalk

I could say nothing that involves her. Nothing about us. Nothing she needs to know.

All technically true depending on how I phrase it.

Five days ago, I would've found the right words.

Tonight, I don't.

“Yes.”

Presley becomes very still. “What?”

“There's more you don't know about me.”

Her eyes search mine. “How much more?”

“Enough that you might walk out that door when I'm finished.”

She swallows. “Tell me.”

I look around the coffee shop. People are talking. Music quietly plays overhead. Gracie is pretending she isn’t checking on Presley every thirty seconds.

This isn't where I tell her about a dead man in a basement.

“Not here.”

Suspicion immediately enters her expression.

“Hades—”

“I'm not refusing.”

“Then tell me.”

“I will. Every fucking thing.”

She studies me. “Where?”

“My place.”

Her eyebrows pull together. “Your place?”

I nod.

“The woods behind my house.”

“Yes.”

She stares at me. “It’s just shocking that you’ve been living on the other side of those woods this entire fucking time.”

“I’m sure.” I stare at her. “Technically, there's a trail⁠—”

“Do not fucking technically me right now.”

I shut my mouth.

Good decision.

Probably growth.