Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“More? How can there be more?” I mumble around a mouthful of deliciousness I know the talented man made himself, hiding my mouth behind my hand as I stare wide-eyed at the man who has asked me more questions about traveling this week than I’ve ever received in my whole life.
“Is there a reason for the travel inquisition?”
“Can’t a guy want to learn more about his neighbor?” he counters, wearing an innocent veneer I don’t believe for a second.
Wiping my mouth with a napkin that was in the paper bag, I answer, “Sure, but I think you know more than me about any travel plans I’d like to make in the future, travel-related things I’ve done in the past, and even travel-related things I’ve done in another life. What gives?”
Caiden shrugs, nonchalant and calm, a smile fixed in place. “I just want to learn all there is to learn about Madison Fowler. What, is that a crime?”
I raise an eyebrow and pull a face that tells him more than words how unimpressed I am. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Why have you been grilling me all week?”
He laughs and holds his hands out in surrender. “Genuinely, I just want to learn. That’s all. How about we change the topic?”
I eye him cautiously before nodding, continuing to eat my bagel. The greatest mistake if I’ve ever made one. Because the moment I bite into the delectable morsel, Caiden asks, “So, what do we need to know about Tobe the Chode?”
My next inhale almost kills me, my entire life flashing before my eyes as I breathe in crumbs and food that is meant to be chewed and swallowed, not inhaled like a defective vacuum.
I’m coughing so hard that tears form on my eyelashes, my lungs fighting for their very existence as I go to war to win the ability to breathe once more.
I only vaguely hear Caiden curse before he’s rounding my desk and smacking a meaty hand against my back to help me regain the necessary function of breathing.
Thankfully, it only takes three solid pounds before I stop choking on the small piece of bagel determined to snuff my life out, the piece lodged in my throat coughed into the napkin and air returned to my poor, abused lungs.
When I can speak again without falling into another coughing fit, Caiden sliding a glass of cold water across my desk after doing anything and everything to avoid my irritated glare, I grumble, “Since I almost died for it, why are you asking about Toby?”
He winces slightly, but then he straightens his shoulders and declares, “Since the fucker is tracking you on his phone, showing up to your place unannounced, and doesn’t seem to know when to quit, I’d like to know exactly who we’re dealing with.”
“We?” I question, my eyes glancing at my laptop and seeing the emails the man in question sent. All one hundred and seventeen of them.
When I look back at Caiden, I find him watching me with a curious expression that doesn’t bode well for me.
I’ve been subjected to some intense and relentless questioning over the past week thanks to that look, and I find myself already bracing for his next round of quizzing.
Only, this time, the topic isn’t as fun or mundane or even boring.
I know the next question to leave his mouth before the words have formed, and I sigh as he asks, “What’s that look for?”
Dropping my gaze back to my laptop, I decide that there’s no use in hiding it from him.
After all, it would probably be wise for him to be in the know, as well as the others, since it’s also their home that is being stalked.
Plus, I suppose I owe them that much after getting them involved in my drama.
So, with a small niggle of reluctance, I point at the laptop with my free hand and take another bite of my bagel, needing something good in my life to distract me from the crazy on the screen.
With a pinched eyebrow, Caid stands and rounds the desk after just returning to his seat, stepping close enough that I can smell his citrus cologne. He ducks and peers at my screen, and I sense him tense beside me.
“Yup, my reaction exactly,” I mumble around another mouthful of food like a total slob, eyeing the screen with no small amount of disgust.
Just as I swallow my next bite, Caid steps behind my chair and leans over my shoulder, reaching for the trackpad on my laptop. Instantly, I’m surrounded by warmth and citrus, my mouth watering for far more than the bagel and muffin, and I swallow hard enough that I’m sure he hears the gulp.
Thankfully, depending on how you want to look at it, he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to anything but what’s on my screen. Caid scrolls through the emails, the cursor hovering over each one, showing me that he’s taking his time reading over each subject title with careful precision.
Suddenly, my bagel is completely forgotten.
There is nothing but the fresh intensity that gradually grows the longer Caid reads through the emails, the way his chest feels pressed against my shoulder blades, and the smell of him that now fills the space around me.
I should be focused on the very glaring fact that Toby is going crazy, but the only thing I can focus on is how good it feels to have Caid leaning into me, how good it would feel if we switched the positions, or if there were any clothes-
“When did he send these?” he asks, startling me out of my inappropriate thoughts, and I mentally slap myself.
“Early hours of the morning. I only saw them when I got to work, though, because I only leave my work email logged in here. Everything at home is personal,” I answer, feeling a little flushed and hot under the collar, reaching over to turn on the mini desk fan I desperately need right now.
I’m in nothing but a denim skirt, white T-shirt, and sneakers, and yet I feel like I’ve just stepped into a human-sized furnace all of a sudden. “Have you read all of them?”
He shakes his head, and I nudge his fingers away from the trackpad, ignoring the funny little zap I feel at the very innocent touch. I also ignore the way he leans in even closer, his breath tussling the hair at the top of my head as he reads over the emails that had me riled up when Zeke came in.
“I have no idea how long he was there, but he was outside the apartment building while he was sending these,” I inform, highlighting the times they were sent and pointing out the subject lines that clearly tell me he’s firmly planted in stalker territory.
Caid’s chin bumps against my head when he nods, and his voice reverberates through my back when he says, “Okay, so we’ll take these to the police to add to the report. I’ll drive you after work. We’ll take care of this, Blue.”
I’m nodding in agreement right before a thought comes to me that makes me pause, and I lean back in my chair, forcing Caid to step away. Why would they take care of it? And why is it yet another “we” situation?
Caid steps out from behind my chair and, instead of reclaiming his seat, parks his ass on the edge of my desk, doing the whole sexy-man lean that almost sidetracks my wayward thoughts once more.
Especially when he crosses his ankles and braces his arms snug against his chest, those muscles popping in all the right areas.
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I finally ask, “Who’s we?”
“Me and the guys, obviously,” he answers slowly, as though he’s worried I’ve lost a few brain cells between last night and now. Hell, after his intense questioning, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few are missing.
I nod, expecting that answer. “Okay, and why are you guys going to fix this? It’s my problem, and I’ve already dragged you into it enough.”
Like it’s the most normal thing in the world, Caid only shrugs a single shoulder and stuns me when he says, “Because we like you.”
My mouth falls open in shock, my heart skips a beat, and I can almost convince myself I heard him wrong, especially after the godlike bastard doesn’t give me time to absorb what he just said.
“Anyway, I have more questions I need to ask about vacations. Also, I wanted to talk about you slotting me into your calendar for a promotional photo shoot at my gym,” he says, chill and put together, as though he didn’t just tell me that he and three other guys like me.
I mean, what does he mean by that? Like me as a person?
Like me as a friend? Like-like me? As in, want-in-my-pants kind of like me? What does it mean?
Gaping like a fish at the man too pretty to be real, I reach out a finger and press it against his bulging bicep, shaking my head and muttering, “What?”
“A photo shoot? For my gym? My assistant has been trying to book with you for ages, and I figured since we’re practically living together, I would try and play the ‘we’re close’ card to get you to do my photo shoot for me?” he answers, sounding just as confused as I am now.
My eyebrows pinch, and I almost whisper, “That’s not what I was talking about. The thing you said before that. What?”
Caiden eyes me for a long moment, squints, and poses his next sentence as a question. “I have more vacation questions to ask you?”
“Oh my God,” I breathe, poking his muscle again like I can’t help myself, making his lips twitch, even if he looks confused. That tease quickly turns into a cute smile as I mutter, “Did you just say you like me? What? Is that… what? Huh?”
Oh great, now I’ve lost the ability to speak like a normal functioning adult. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Well, yeah,” Caid snickers, biting his lip and turning my brain to mush in the process.
I actually forget why he’s here entirely, or what we were even just speaking about, caught up watching his straight, white teeth biting into his naturally plump lower lip.
It’s only as he speaks again that I snap back to reality.
“What’s not to like? We’d be stupid not to like you, Blue. So, about that photo shoot?”