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“Your throat?” I ask, assuming it hurts too much to talk. “Have you taken anything?”
His brows furrow.
“That’s a no.” I roll my eyes. “Have you had dinner?”
Expression not changing, Hans slowly moves his head from side to side.
“Okay, um, I’ll be back in five. Maybe ten. Just”—I wave my hand toward his couch—“leave the door unlocked.”
Before he can refuse me, I hurry away.
I’m not worried about Hans getting me sick. I mean, he had his tongue in my mouth yesterday. So if I’m going to catch it, I’m going to catch it.
But feeding people is my love language.
And thief or not, Hans looks like he could use some love.
CHAPTER18
Hans
I stareat the ceiling for a solid minute before I move back to the couch.
Cassandra, my obsession, the worst baker I’ve ever met, is going to come back withwho knows whatto make me feel better because she thinks I’m sick.
I’m not sick. I’m just struggling to speak because I got popped in the larynx last night by a man I was in the process of killing.
I never should have opened her mail.
Settled back into my usual spot on the end of the couch, I watch through the living room window as Cassandra exits her house, makes it a few steps outside, turns around, goes back inside, comes back out, this time pausing to lock her door with her bundle of keys, then hurries back toward my house.
She’s dressed casually. But if she thinks skin-fucking-tight leggings are less provocative than shorts, she’s as wrong as she is tempting.
I grit my teeth, silently telling my dick to chill out.
I can’t sit here tenting my pants.
I shouldn’t even let her back into my house.
There are so many reasons why getting close to her is wrong.
So many reasons for me to jump up and lock my door. Tell her to stay away from me. Tell her to sell her house and move across the country.
But I can’t turn her away.
Because I don’t want to hurt her feelings.
And I don’t actually want her to go.
I want her to stay.
Cassandra hops up my steps and knocks once on the door before turning the handle.
Like she requested, I left it unlocked.
The door cracks open an inch, then swings in, allowing her entry.
“Hey,” Cassandra greets me shyly. Which is almost laughable since she was just here, and she’s back because she boldly inserted herself into my night.
