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Dev stood over her for a long moment, and a peek from under her lashes revealed his fingers fisted in the cushy pillow.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
Guilt made her cringe. She reached for the blanket spilling over the edge of the couch and dragged it up to cover her legs. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. I forgot pajamas.”
Finally, he heaved a sigh, tossed the pillow on the far side of the couch where his head had been, and moved to sit next to her.
But not too close, she noticed.
“Sorry,” she said without looking at him.
“It’s fine. I know you were shook up.”
“I’m still shook up.” She hugged her legs closer to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. “I can’t stop thinking about him being in my bedroom. And I keep seeing flashes of what he wrote. He didn’t even touch me and I feel so…violated.”
Dev’s hand moved as if to reach out to her, but then he curled his fingers into a fist on his thigh and leaned against the back of the couch. She wanted to tell him his touch wouldn’t bother her, but she didn’t want to assume that’s why he’d checked himself, so she kept quiet.
“No one’s going to get near you,” he promised. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She stared at the black nylon of the gym shorts he’d changed into. What had he done with his gun? Did he have a safe, or was it within reach? She hoped within reach. Because she wanted Dev to have his gun handy if the creep who’d been in her bedroom showed up here.
“What did he mean that he can’t wait to see me in red?”
“Shelby, they’re just words.”
“But what do you think that meant?” She loosened her hold on her legs and twisted slightly to search out his gaze. His profile was half-lit and half-shadows, but even then she saw his jaw clench as he shook his head.
“I will not let anyone hurt you,” he vowed.
She had a guess as to what the guy meant, but was afraid to say it out loud. Dev avoiding the question only led weight to her frightening speculation.
“The best thing you can do is try to put it out of your mind and get some sleep.”
She ducked her head against her knees again and pushed back into the couch, wanting it to swallow her up so he couldn’t make her leave. “I keep imagining him coming through the bedroom window.”
“All the windows are locked.”
“So were mine.”
Her words hung between them, and in the silence, she heard a clock ticking. She focused on the sound, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from.
Somewhere behind her.
A sigh bordering on a growl came from Dev’s side of the couch. She scrunched her eyes tight against another annoying sting of tears and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said roughly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And yet you’re still mad.”
“At the motherfucker messing with your life, not at you.”
“Okay, good. You’re a little scary when you’re mad.”
He scoffed. “It hasn’t seemed to faze you one bit.”
She laughed into the blanket, only to have tears choke her throat.
“Hey—”
