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“Jesus.”

“Wade, Aaron, Annabeth, and Laura. I’m the only one left.” Her voice trembles. “D-does this mean I’m next?”

“What? No, of course not.” I say those words, but I’m not sure I believe them. She’s right when she says she’s the only one left from their group that hung out at high school.

“I’m scared, Axel.”

“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” I wrap my arms around her, holding her close to me.

She’s quiet, her silent tears dripping on my chest, and I become acutely aware that I’m not wearing a sleep shirt. Just my pajama bottoms. And she smells fucking amazing and feels even better in my arms. Like she was always meant to be held by them.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she says softly, her breath brushing against my chest.

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“I’m not really sure why I came here.” Her hand presses against my chest, and I stop breathing. “I just … you were the first person I wanted to talk to.”

“Well, I’m glad you came.” And I really am glad she came to me when she needed comfort.

But isn’t it just fucking typical of my life that the girl I always wanted but never got to have now wants me, but neither of us can act upon it?

She looks up at me, blinking with lashes that are glistening with tears.

My eyes drop to her lips. Those gorgeous lips that I’ve dreamed of … obsessed over kissing.

Before I know it, she leans in and presses her lips to mine. I freeze.

Holy fuck, she’s kissing me.

Do something, you moron. Like kiss her back.

She pulls away before I can reciprocate. She looks mortified. “God, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that! I’m your—”

I cut her off with a kiss before she can say the words I really don’t want to hear. Because if I do, I won’t keep kissing her, and I really, really want to fucking kiss her.

Her arms slide around my neck, and I pull her close to my body, kissing her like I’ve always wanted to do.

Eden and I made out like teenagers on my sofa until the kisses became lazy and languid, and she eventually fell asleep, her head on my chest.

I’ve been lying here for the past few hours, just listening to the sound of her soft breaths, loving the feel of her, but contemplating what we just did, knowing that I’m risking my freedom by fooling around with her. Not that I think Eden would send me back to prison, but I’m sure it’s written in the law somewhere that a parolee shouldn’t get involved with their parole officer. And I really don’t want to get her in trouble either.

But even knowing all of this, having her here, in my arms, makes it hard to care. To think about anything else but her.

Also, I feel the need to keep her safe from whoever the fuck is out there on a killing spree of her old high school buddies.

I’m not letting her out of my sight until this shit is all sorted out and the killer is behind bars.

I hope that the police have some real leads. I know they’re still looking at me as a suspect.

I went into town to get some groceries, and the stares and whispers told me that folk had put two and two together and come up with five.

They think I had something to do with the death of Aaron—probably Wade as well—as if I would murder someone and then be the one to find the body.

I only wish I had gotten to work a little later that day so I wasn’t the one to find Aaron’s body. But being the resident convicted murderer, I’m sure people would have started looking at me as the guilty party even if I hadn’t found him.

I get out of prison, and then people start dying. People I went to high school with.

Hell, if I wasn’t me, then I’d be wondering about me too.

But I don’t believe in coincidences, and it definitely isn’t one that four people were killed right after I got out of prison. My gut tells me that someone is trying to set me up for these murders. I’d have to be an idiot not to think that.

I just have to figure out who and why.

Because bodies are starting to pile up and Eden’s safety is at risk.

I feel her start to rouse. She lifts her head from my chest and blinks sleepy eyes at me.

“Hey.” I brush hair back from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear.

“Hey,” she whispers. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A few hours.”

“Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

I cup her chin, tilting her head back. “I’m not complaining.”

Then, I lean in and press my lips to hers.

A soft moan travels from her mouth and into mine, and I swallow the sound down.

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