He ignores the money but accepts the container. “Hang on.” He closes the door, and I study my shoes, pretending to be oddly interested in them.
When he comes back, a shirt has replaced the bare chest I was once lucky to have witnessed. It’s not any less of a distraction, though, but it helps. He’s also empty-handed, which means he probably intends on keeping my peace offering.
“I already told you… you don’t owe me for the car.”
“But it’s too much,” I counter. “And you didn’t need to buy my groceries.”
“You were holding up the line.”
He doesn’t need to go and remind me of how some people in town got their first impression of me. All right, if he isn’t going to accept the money, then there’s nothing left to say.
“Yeah, about that. I left my cash on the table. Well, Lana’s cash.”Stop babbling.“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s nice to properly meet you. Have a great evening.”
My face burns with heat as I spin to descend the stairs and rush over to my side of the duplex.
Don’t look back.
But I do. I take a quick glance just in time to witness him running a hand through his thick hair. Man, he’s got magnificent hair. I wonder how old he is. He looks my age. Maybe a tad older by a couple of years. Of course I’m not interested in him that way, but he sure is nice to look at.
I throw a cutesy wave his way and scurry into Lana’s, where I can finally breathe. With the closed door, I lean against it, trying to catch air back into my lungs. Why does this man turn me into a babbling moron? I’ve never had this type of reaction. Never with Jason and never with anyone else. The men at Jason’s club did nothing for me. But I suppose it didn’t help when they were his colleagues. Handsy, old, and overpaying. Also horny for women who weren’t their wives. Humiliation at best.
It’s getting dark, and with the adrenaline finally wearing off, my body begs for sleep, and I welcome the idea. Sleep now. Search for a job tomorrow.
Once the kitchen is clean, I change and crash on the guest bed Lana made up for me. It feels odd to be in a different bed than the one I’ve slept in for years. To not be surrounded by walls worth over a million dollars.
I mask the emotions for tonight because I am too drained—too tired of having to start over. But I’m happy to have escaped.
I wake to a loud thud. A bang. And I jolt around, trying to remember where I am. But there’s no mansion. No Jason. I’m inside the duplex with Lana. But when the bang goes off again,more aggressive this time, I can’t suppress the terrifying gut-wrenching feeling.
He found me.
My heart hammers against my chest and I spring into action. I’ve created this scenario in my head for months prior to leaving. I just need to stay calm and collect myself for a second.
With practiced breaths, my heart rate slows, and I stealthily slink to the kitchen, having to feel my way using the wall. Because I was so tired and desperate to sleep, I hadn’t turned on any lights beforehand and now I’m trying to hide from a potential burglar in the pitch black.
Once I locate the kitchen drawer, I reach in, trying to find the pepper spray, but end up grabbing a stupid butter knife instead, desperately holding it to my chest.
BANG.
The noise is coming from outside toward the back. I give up searching, not daring to turn on a light and find the sliding door, tugging it open. The duplex sits on a hill, elevated at least ten feet, creating a significant drop from the balcony to the ground.
Still gripping the knife tightly in hand, I ninja jump onto the balcony, thrashing my weapon out in front. But I’m slicing no one. Nothing but air. No more banging. Just the sound of crickets.
I creep an inch forward, stubbing my toe on one of the balcony chairs. The pain instant. “Shit.”
“Were you planning on hurting someone with that?”
A terrifying shriek escapes me. I turn, finding the man with the deep voice. “Jesus Christ. You scared the hell out of me.” I hold my hand to my chest, trying to regain balance.
Only a few feet away is Logan. He’s shirtless again, leaning on the middle railing that separates both sides, and the cut of his triceps show. If he’s any sort of amused by my antics, he doesn’tshow it. In fact, I can’t read what he’s thinking because his face is blank. Expressionless. But he’s watching me closely.
I sigh. “For your information, I couldn’t see. This choice of weapon was not planned.”
He’s looking away now, focusing on the ground beneath us.
“What’s that banging? Did it wake you too?” I ask.
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
