Page 83 of The Stalker Snafu

“It’s just a tablet, Emma. I’m not trying to give you a car.”

My eyes stayed on his warm grey ones out of pure force of will, resisting the pull of the innocent box.

Oliver’s smile widened as if he sensed my inner struggle, and he leaned down until his hand rested on the back of the couch beside me. I didn’t dare move, let alone take a breath. His eyes swallowed any chance I had of breathing normally.

“How about I loan it to you, then?” Oliver murmured, not breaking his gaze. “Whenever you feel like it, you can borrow my tablet here. Sound fair?”

I didn’t feel comfortable snorting with him this close to my face, so I settled on rolling my eyes. “Very clever. I’m not falling for⁠—”

“The code to unlock it is 5683,” he whispered. “Use it whenever you’re ready. No rush. No strings. Not even a gift anymore. Just something to help pass the time.”

He was way too close. I looked down at the doodles in my notebook, not wanting to say no again.

“I’m sorry about Rafe, by the way,” Oliver said as he straightened. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we’re a pretty tight group. But we’ve never been surprised with a secret girlfriend before, and he doesn’t do well with change.”

“No kidding,” I grumbled, reminding myself not to say anything mean about Oliver’s friend when he’d just been super nice to me.

Oliver slid his hands into his pockets. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the kitchen with Julian if you want company, but we understand if you want to be alone.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, beyond grateful they were giving me space. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he said, heading to the kitchen.

I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter and raising my voice. “No, Oliver. I mean it. Thank you.”

He looked over his shoulder, and the softness of his smile did crazy warm things to my stomach. I cursed at the butterflies, telling them they were officially in hibernation until I told them otherwise.

Apparently, my childhood crush on Oliver Bishop wasn’t as harmless as I’d thought, and my heart thundered dauntingly against my rib cage as the kitchen door swung shut behind him.

I lasted exactly twenty-seven seconds before reaching for the tablet.

CHAPTER 32

A Spanish Breakfast

A larger screen opened endless opportunities for my independently run coffee café. The rest of the day was a battle between worrying about Noah and trying to distract myself by building my virtual caffeine empire. I spent all my coffee beans on a sign spinner to attract new business, and it was just starting to pay off when Julian said dinner was ready.

The spaghetti he’d made smelled delicious, but all I could think was how I’d eaten this same meal at this same table with Noah not that long ago. I couldn’t stomach it. I picked at the noodles before excusing myself, and I could feel Julian and Oliver’s eyes burning into my back when I retreated to the room Noah and I typically shared—which turned out to be a guest room.

It was no surprise when midnight had long since passed and I still couldn’t fall asleep.

After a few hours of restless dozing, the unforgiving California sun got me out of bed in time with the birds. Two nights with little sleep wasn’t doing me any favors.

Clad in the Hello Kitty pajama shorts I kept over here and my favorite grey sleep shirt of Noah’s, I threw my hair up into a messy bun and staggered out of the guest room to hunt down coffee.

The droolworthy scent of bacon almost knocked me over halfway down the hall, and hope that Noah was back blinded me. I ran the rest of the way to the kitchen, flung open the door, and my heart squeezed when the person cooking was too tall, broad-shouldered, and tattooed to be Noah.

He was still gone.

One of the twins was manning four different frying pans on the stove, with low-slung pajama pants, a tight wifebeater, and dark hair rumpled from sleep. Tattoos crawled up his arms and shoulders, and my eyes tracked the way the black lines wove together before disappearing under his thin shirt.

From the lack of a scowl when he looked over his shoulder, I guessed it was Adrian.

“What are you doing here?” I croaked out.

His smile was way too cheery for such an early morning. “I slept on the couch. Julian already left for the clinic, so I thought I’d make some breakfast.”

I frowned. I hadn’t noticed him when I went to bed last night. Was he here to babysit me?