It’s a short drive and before I’m ready, we’re pulling up in front of her apartment. Her eyes catch mine, wide and uncertain.
I force myself to move first. I get out, round the truck and open her door. She slides down. She reaches for the jacket, starting to shrug it off, but I shake my head, wagging my finger slowly.
She blinks up at me, cheeks pink and obeys. Good girl.
She steps closer, arms beginning to lift like she’s preparing to say goodbye. I shake my head again, firmer this time. Her lips part, but she doesn’t argue—she just nods, accepting.
We fall into step by side, her soft frame brushing against mine as we walk toward the entrance to the apartment.
She leads me up the stairs, we walk past two doors, and we stop in front of number 17307. I take a mental note.
I pull my phone out, showing her the DoorDash screen, her food is on the way. She nods. I then open the contacts tab and hand her my phone.
She takes it and smiles while she fills in the contact info. She hands me my phone back and gives me a tight hug. My heart nearly explodes.
Reluctantly, I turn and start my descent down the apartment stairs.
The thought of her sleeping alone tonight after what we shared leaves my heart torn—pulled between the anonymity I insist on and the closeness I crave.
CHAPTER TEN
OPAL
There’s a quiet knock at the door, and I know there’s a paper bag full of greasy deliciousness awaiting me.
I get comfy on the couch, dipping my fry into my sauce as the opening credits ofHocus Pocuslight up on the TV screen. My phone buzzes on the cushion beside me.
Enjoy your food, baby doll. Thanks for tonight.
I freeze, fry halfway to my mouth.
I stare at the words until the letters blur. I didn’t even get his name. He’d been so careful, so secretive. Was he just so into playing the role tonight, or is he hiding something more?
Married? Why else would someone be so protective of their identity. Is he a politician… a professor?
My stomach knots. Please don’t be married.
I chew on my lip, thumb hovering over the screen before I finally type.
Can I at least have your name? So I can save your number?
I hit send, then clutch the phone to my chest, nerves prickling. Almost immediately, I receive a reply.
Kade.
Kade? Seriously… he can’t give me his name? He has to be hiding something.
Are you married?
I hit send before I can change my mind.
The three dots appear instantly.
No? Why would you think that, Opal?
I can practically hear the disbelief in those few words, like I’d just insulted him.
Because you won’t give me your name. You clearly don’t want me to know who you really are.
