Miles chuckles. “Okay, but let’s talk about that flimsy wall of yours for a moment. I’ve trusted Owen ever since we fully vetted him after spying on him at his work when he first became your neighbor.”
“You guys spied on him?” Reese asks.
Miles seemed to have forgotten that we have someonenotin the family business in the car. “We just did a little recon at the theater. A little hiding behind bricks just to see what he was like. You know, to try to tell if he was good enough for Charlie before she really started falling for him.”
They did a bit more than that. I found out later that my brothers hadfullylooked into Owen. He came back clean enough that they gave him their stamp of approval, as long as he’s treating me right. And predicated on whether my little crush grew into something big enough to need their approval, whichit hasn’t yet.
“Anyway, Owen being a good guy doesn’t negate the fact that the plastic wall you share doubles your chance of a break-in. Because if someone breaks into his side, they would see that plastic wall, and who wouldn’t also break into yours? And if they wanted to break into your place specifically, that’d be the easier way to do it. Or if Owen just plain forgets to lock his door sometime, it’ll put your place at risk, too.”
Tonight was such a relaxing night! What is he thinking, going and getting me all scared about danger possibilities like this? It took me so long to get unfreaked out about it when the wall first came down.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Reese says. “Our neighbor has quite the crush on Charlie, so if someone broke into his side, he’d stop them from coming to ours.”
“But would he be able to?” Miles asks. “The guy hasn’t been in a fight in his life.”
I don’t want Reese to question how Miles could possibly know that. So I ask about the other part that caught my attention. “You think he has quite the crush on me?” It feels stupid to say out loud, like we’re pre-teens or something, but hearing her say it still gives me happy flutters.
“No,” Reese says, deadpan. “Guys always leave fun and thoughtful gifts for a woman they don’t have a crush on.” Then she turns to Miles. “You know,Cipher Springs isn’t exactly known for its high number of break-ins.”
“There are always exceptions to the rules.” Then, to me, Miles adds, “Plus, your chances are higher, considering your job.”
Reese gives him a look like he’s being ridiculous.
“What?” Miles says. “Sometimes clients can get disgruntled.”
“Because her clients might go, ‘My computer crashed and I hadn’t saved my work, so I’m going to break into the IT person’s home.’”
Miles is hiding a smile, knowing that Reese has no idea what kinds of “clients” he’s actually referring to. But to keep the focus off that, he says to her, “You never know. It could be someone fromyourwork.”
Reese gives him an amused smile. “A disgruntled middle-school-aged bookworm? Or are you talking about my side hustle and are referring to someone I sold delicious, healthy, taste-bud-pleasing honey to?”
“I just want to make sure that nothing bad happens to my best friend and my sister. What do you say we run a drill?”
Reese and I look at each other, and Reese shrugs. “We’d love to,” I say. I know Reese will be on board because Miles is her best friend, and it’s clear this is important to him. I’m actually grateful for it. Worrying about safety is the kind of thing that keeps meup at night.
And not just worries about someone breaking in, but about other dangers, too. Fire. Earthquakes. Floods. (The big kind, not the kitchen floor kind.) Things that require evacuation from your home quickly. Things that impact an entire area and can make you get separated from your family.
I wish Reese was willing to do roommate drills with me. Like what to do in a fire. But if my brother and her best friend, a guy who can charm the socks off anyone, can barely talk her into doing some kind of drill, it’s not likely that I ever can.
Owen’s truck is in the driveway, and I look at my watch as Miles pulls up in front of our townhome. “Oh, but it’s late. Owen likely went to bed an hour ago.”
“You know what time he goes to bed?”
“We know everything,” Reese says. “What time he wakes up, how long he takes in the shower, that he paces and sighs about every 7.8 seconds when he’s thinking through a problem, all of it. We know way more than we should know. That wall isthin.”
I try to quell the panic that the reminder gives me about how much Owen has inadvertently learned about me. I have bigger things to panic about right now, like someone breaking in. Or earthquakes, fires, or floods.
“Just humor me, okay? I can be quiet.” I nod, so Miles adds, “You two just go in. Do whatever you’dnormally do. Leave the door unlocked or don’t—I can always pick the lock. I’ll wait an undetermined amount of time before sneaking in. I’ll be so quiet you won’t hear me coming. I want to see how long it takes you to notice me and how you fend me off. Give me your best.”
I take off my seatbelt. “We can do that.”
I grew up learning self-defense moves, but Reese didn’t. Miles has spent enough time teaching her, though, that she can get herself out of a pickle. He turns to look at her. “Remember—palm strikes to the nose or chin with the heel of your hand are very effective. I can counter it well enough that you don’t have to worry about hurting me. Since I’m not wearing any protective gear, I’d appreciate it if you stay away from defending with a knee to the groin, though. Elbow strike to the jaw or ribs, or a foot stomp or shin scrape with your heel are good options.”
Reese turns to me. “Your brother loves us so much that he’s willing to sacrifice that pretty face for us.”
“Now that’s some confidence thinking that you might be able to actually hurt this pretty face.”
We both laugh and tell him goodbye—for now—and head into our place. There haven’t been any workers inside today, so I don’t feel compelled to go check for intruders. Although now that Miles has gotten me thinking about intruders comingthrough our plastic wall, I still check under my bed when we both go upstairs to change into pajamas.
