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“Four.” He’d never gotten out of the habit of training in the morning even after he’d hung up his gloves. Every morning at four he got up, went to the gym in his garage and worked out.
“Fouro’clock.” she clarified.
He nodded again.
“You get up at four in the morning, only set one alarm, and when it goes off you just open your eyes and get up?”
He wasn’t sure if that was a trick or rhetorical question, but he responded anyway. “Yes.”
She stared at him as if he’d just grown another head. Which, in all fairness, he had. She just couldn’t see it behind the boxes.
“Is that a problem?” he asked.
“No. It’s just good to know.”
“What’s good to know?”
“That you’re a sociopath,” she said with a tiny grin before she bent down, grabbed the bin and disappeared inside her house.
Maybe if she thought he was a sociopath she’d keep her distance from him. It was truly his only hope because if not, he was in trouble. Big trouble.
