AllFreeNovel
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“You don’t have to feed me, Danny. I’m only mostly an invalid. I’m going to get something delivered. You want in?”
“No, that’s okay,” I say. “I think I’m going out.”
I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m not sure I can spend the rest of the evening here. Maybe one of the guys will grab a drink with me. Or maybe I’ll just go for a walk on the greenway. Ruthie made me promise I’d stop biking at night.
I still need a reset, or maybe ten of them.
This is all confusing. Baffling, even. I wasn’t happy about Mira encroaching on my space a week ago, but now I feel a powerful draw to her. Maybe I was lonely, the way Ruthie says.
“Hey,” Mira says, just as I’m about to turn around and lean into my mind storm.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever noticed the woman in the apartment across from us? You know, the window on the side of the living room that looks across that alley?”
“A big burly dude used to live there,” I tell her, my mind summoning an image of him that I would have preferred to keep in the vault. “He liked to walk around naked. I stopped looking.”
“Oh,” she says thoughtfully, looking off. “There’s a woman in there now—a blonde woman. Or maybe white hair. I can’t tell. She was watching me. Isn’t that weird?”
“I don’t know, were you staring at her?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So maybe she thought you were being weird. That happens to me all the time.”
“Do you really have binoculars for checking out leaves?”
I lean against the door jam, staring at the little jewelry box on top of her dresser—shaped like a horseshoe—so I don’t have to look at her.
No. So I don’t stare at her in a way that’s bound to make her uncomfortable.
“I see. You’ve been cooped up for one day, and you’re already resorting to watching the neighbors with binoculars?”
“Huh. When you put it that way, it does sound weird. Still…”
“Against my better judgment, I’ll put them out for you, Jimmy Stewart.”
“Jimmy Stewart?”
“You know.” I gesture with my hand. “Rear Window. Broken leg. Peeping on the neighbors.”
“Does that make you Grace Kelly?” she asks.
Is she smiling? I’d like to know, but I don’t look. I can’t.
“I guess it must.”
“Must be that podcast you got me hooked on. I keep letting the next episode auto play.”
I pause, really checking out that jewelry box. Trying hard not to think about the fact that she likes old movies, or at least this one old movie, and has spent all day listening to my favorite podcast. “Goodnight, Mira. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need any help, don’t resort to calling out for Big Mike or Pumpkin. Text me. I’ll come home.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
My gaze finally finds her, giving into the need to look. Maybe I’m imagining it, but she seems surprised. Maybe even bewildered. I don’t like what that suggests about her ex-boyfriend, not that I thought very well of him a few minutes ago.
“Of course,” I say firmly.
Then, because I can’t help myself, I let my gaze dip, taking in the delightful, infuriating inadequacy of that towel. Her hips, flaring outward from the towel as if they’re asking for me to hang onto them. Swallowing, I look away and say, “Have a good night.”
