Chapter 22 #2
“Yeah, remember when you offered to cook for me?” He waggles his eyebrows dramatically.
I roll my eyes. “I would have promised a whole lot more than cooking to get you to come back.”
“Oh, I’m intrigued. What else exactly could I have gotten out of you? Hypothetically of course,” he remarks conversationally.
“You just told me I was too easy, and now you want me to elaborate on it?”
“I didn’t say you were too easy.” He feigns incredulity, grabbing his chest.
“You didn’t? I could have sworn that’s what I heard.” I pry the trash from his grip and take it to the kitchen. He trails behind me, opening the door under the sink to show me where to toss the garbage. There’s something incredibly sweet about it, but it also makes me a little sad.
I lean against his counter, feeling welcome but like an interloper too. I mean I slept in the man’s bed without even asking, and it never even dawned on me to. I’ll blame that on being overtired and overwhelmed.
“What’s wrong?” Boone bumps his shoulder into mine. His perceptiveness is going to take some getting used to.
I contemplate not telling him the truth, but I’m not a liar, and he would probably know I was fibbing anyway. “I feel bad for taking over your life,” I tell him.
Without saying anything, he shifts positions to stand in front of me. I have to look up to meet his eyes, and he immediately bends his knees, coming closer. “You are not taking over my life.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he places his finger over my lips. “And if you were, I wouldn’t care. I could take you to a safe house, Harlyn.”
“You tried. I begged you not to.” My words are muffled behind his finger.
He gives me a censoring glare. “You didn’t beg.”
I wrap my fingers around his wrist and pull his hand from my mouth. “I might as well have. I guilted you into this, and it wasn’t fair. The reality is, I wouldn’t take it back, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”
“You didn’t guilt me into anything. Do you think this isn’t exactly what I wanted? I have you here” —Boone gestures around the room— “where I can make sure you are safe.”
“I’m not trying to argue with you. I just didn’t want to lie.”
With my fingers still gripping his wrist, he reaches up and cradles my face.
There’s a roughness to his palms that are so very different than my own.
He feels so real. “I won’t lie to you either.
Do I feel a sense of duty to protect you because of my job?
Yes. I have from the moment you spoke about what happened to your sister, but that isn’t why you are here with me, Harlyn.
You are here because I want you here. What I feel goes far beyond a duty to my job.
” His eyes search mine as if he’s looking for understanding, and I do understand.
I felt an inexplicable pull to him even before he spoke.
“Okay,” I concede, determined not to bring this up again.
It feels pointless to keep rehashing the same thing, especially when we come up with the same results—me voicing my concerns and him working to make me feel less guilty.
It works for a while, but nothing can erase the fact that I could be putting him in danger and, at the very least, I am disrupting his life.
“Okay,” he agrees softly as if he was prepared to continue the conversation but is just as willing to let it go as I am.
“I should text them before it really does get too late,” I say, shifting the focus to a more manageable topic.
Boone kisses my forehead swiftly before stepping back. “I’ll just be a minute.” He returns quickly with a number scribbled on a Post-it note. “You good if I hop in the shower?”
“Of course, you don’t have to babysit me all the time.”
He doesn’t respond directly to my petulant retort. Instead, he says, “Feel free to join me if you get done before I do.”
I snatch the paper from his fingers, but I don’t bother hiding the smile on my lips. I pick up his phone from the table where I left it and call out before he makes it to the bedroom door, “Hey, can you unlock this?”
“Oh sorry.” He looks down at the screen briefly, then he hands it right back.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to use it? I mean, you won’t get in trouble or anything?”
“You’re good. You wouldn’t be able to access anything related to my work.” He heads back to the bedroom without any concern.
I stall for a few more seconds. I know Liv is going to want answers, and I want answers too, but I don’t have any to give her. I don’t know any more about this guy than I did yesterday, and that sucks. I can warn her that she should continue to stay with Parker.
I type the familiar area code then number into the blank field before the phone has a chance to go dormant again, then I begin a text.
The first few lines are easy. I tell her it’s me, but this isn’t my number, then I promise to call her when I can before I falter.
There’s so much I need to say, but I don’t want to upend her world the way mine was just a few days ago.
I let my hand drop into my lap and tip my head back, trying to think of the right thing to say and coming up empty.
Being careful not to hit the send button, I trace my thumb over the top of the screen to keep it awake.
Just as I’m about to lift my finger off the screen, an incoming text message pops up, and the screen flips to another conversation.
I read the message almost by accident, but when I scroll up to see the other messages that came before it, it’s with intention.
The thread isn’t terribly long, and the fact that most of the messages are super short make it a quick read.
Boone: Address?
Chloe: The Carrolton on Franklin building 7 apartment C.
Chloe: You free?
Boone: I can be.
Chloe: Tuesday 8?
Boone: Been a while.
Chloe: Too long, work is shit.
Boone: Always.
Chloe: I’ll be home in 20 if you’re available. I have to walk Bear. You still have the code to let yourself in?
Boone: I can’t get away for an hour. I can bring Thai.
Chloe: I will definitely make it worth your while then.
Chloe: You up?
Boone: Unfortunately, but I’m also with seven other people in a shitty smelling conference room.
Chloe: Have fun with that.
Boone: Hey.
Chloe: Park on the street, they are working on the garage.
Boone: My place instead?
Chloe: If you can be quick
Chloe: Been a while.
There are weeks, even months between some of the messages, but the broken conversations and familiarity make it clear not all of their conversations are through text.
I scroll back to the most recent messages with a terrible feeling in my stomach because I already know what it says, but I will punish myself and read it again.
Chloe: You still good for tomorrow?
Boone: Rain check.
Chloe: Your loss.
Boone’s reply was sent today. I check the time, and it was when I was asleep and he was working in his office. The fact that he said rain check, leaving the chance to see her again open for what clearly seems like a hookup situation, makes me sick to my stomach.
I hear the door to the bathroom open and jump into action, thumbing away the current screen to get back to my text to Livy.
My fingers are shaking, and not just because I’m worried about getting caught.
I’m hurt and fighting back tears, which seems insane since I just met this man less than a week ago. Why did he say rain check? Why not no?
Boone strolls past the door with a towel wrapped dangerously low on his waist—the same waist I had my legs wrapped around not long ago. When was the last time she had hers around him?
I hear drawers open and close, and I know I only have a few seconds to pull myself together. Part of me wants to be messy, to let him know I saw the message, but a bigger part of me is afraid to ask questions because I’m not sure how much I will like the answers.
I force myself to reread what I’ve already typed to Liv, then I hastily add details that seemed like too much and not enough at the same time before Chloe’s message popped up.
I don’t look up from the phone when Boone returns to the living room.
I don’t even acknowledge him when he sits down next to me.
I think about shielding the phone from him, because I’m a little terrified another text is going to come through or that he will somehow know he missed one, but that would really give me away.
I hit send after warning Liv not to return to our house, that some of my things had a tracker in them and ultimately so could hers, and promised to call tomorrow to give her all the info I have.
I pass the phone back to Boone without even looking in his direction.
“You okay?” he asks, and I curse his observation skills.
“Just tired,” I hedge. I think it helps that my hurt is teetering into anger. Why the hell did he ask for a rain check?
“I have a few more things I should go over, but I’d be happy to tuck you in.” There’s a suggestive note in his voice that would have made me smile earlier, but it has the opposite effect on me now.
“Do you mind if I watch some TV if I go to bed now? I might wake up in the middle of the night since I slept so long already.” I doubt I’m going to sleep well anyway, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Sure. If you want to relax, you can watch the TV in the room or camp out here.” I can feel him staring at the side of my face, but I pretend not to notice.
“Here’s good.” If I climbed in his bed right now, I might find myself sneaking into his office to suffocate him with a pillow.
“I shouldn’t be too long,” he tells me, still not getting up.
I force myself to look in his direction, though I manage to avoid meeting his eyes. “I’m good. Don’t feel like you need to entertain me.”
“I’d much rather entertain you, but there might have been a break in my case. My episode on Unexplained Cases aired today, and there has already been a slew of tips coming in. Not sure they will amount to anything, but a few are definitely worth running down.”
“Wow, that’s good.” I don’t have to fake my reaction. It gives me hope that when Hayzel’s episode airs, we will have the same luck with tips.
“It could be.” He finally rises from the couch.
I plaster a passable smile on my lips. “Good luck hunting.”
“More like reading and sorting, but thank you. Let me know if you need anything, and the bed is all yours when you’re ready.” That makes me glance up at him in question. Is he not going to sleep in the bed with me. I assumed after earlier, the issue of who would sleep in the bed was resolved.
“I can take the couch. I’m not putting you out of your bed.” My voice is soft and unsure.
“I just meant until I joined you in it unless…” He leaves the question hanging, as if he knows something is off.
I look away, embarrassed that I still want to sleep next to him after finding out he didn’t shutdown Chloe. “Sounds like a plan.”
“I can hang out for a while if you want?”
“Stop worrying about me and go catch a killer.” I motion for him to go, then I grab the TV remote. Boone lingers for a few heartbeats more before finally pivoting to head toward the hall. I see him take another long glance at me before he shuts himself into his office, but I pretend not to notice.
I sag against the couch cushions, knowing it’s going to be a long ass night and silently dreading him realizing I saw the message.