The pieces click into place, and a cold fury settles in my gut. “You broke up with him, and soon after, you start receiving threatening messages,” I say, keeping my voice neutral. “Interesting.”
“It’s not him,” she says, but there’s a hint of doubt in her voice. “It can’t be. He wouldn’t do something like this to me. I know him. We’ve been dating for months.”
“Arlo. The boyfriend who attacked you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” she says, shaking her head. “You busted in during an argument when we were both angry, but he didn’t attack me.”
“He wasn’t angry about the breakup?”
“Of course he was. But you don’t do something like this to someone you loved, even if that love is gone.”
“You’d be surprised,” I say, my voice grim. “Unrequited love is one of the strongest motivators.” I make a mental note to investigate the ex-boyfriend. He was present at both previous incidents and knew about the phrase. He might have sent the message just to mess with her head, to stress her out. Maybe he even thought it would make her run back to him.
Maybe he didn’t intend to hurt her, but he’s definitely my prime suspect right now.
“Come on. Let’s go inside.” I help Cora unload her purchases, disarm the alarm, and we enter the house. “Stay here. I’ll do a sweep,” I tell her.
She nods, not even arguing like she usually would. My chest tightens at her compliance.
I scan the house and return. “All clear. No one’s here.”
She looks down, fidgeting with her fingers. “I… Can you…” she mumbles, unable to finish the sentence.
“I’ll stay here tonight, okay?” I say, anticipating her request. “Just to be safe.”
She nods again, relief evident in the slump of her shoulders. “Do you want tea? Something to drink?”
I don't want tea, but I say yes anyway and settle onto the couch. Because apparently I've lost all ability to make sensible decisions where Cora's concerned.
She returns with two steaming mugs and sits beside me, closer than she has in weeks. Neither of us speaks, but we don't need to fill the silence with chatter. I'm happy sitting here with her, the quiet punctuated only by her soft sips of tea.
Don't notice how her lips curve around the rim of the mug. Don't notice anything about her lips at all, Ryder.
“I don’t think I can sleep with all this adrenaline,” she says after a while. “Can we watch a movie together?”
“Sure. I hear there’s a great documentary on paint drying we could check out.”
“No, not like that other movie,” she says, her eyes widening. “That was inappropriate. I honestly thought it was a romantic comedy.”
“Ah yes, the classic romantic comedy trope of strangers having acrobatic sex on yachts,” I deadpan.And I definitely hadn't imagined pressing you against that cabin wall, holding your wrists above your head while I—I shut that thought down hard.
She stretches lazily beside me, a move that somehow brings her closer. “You have to admit, it was entertaining.”
She chooses an action movie this time, playing it safe, and we settle in to watch. She collects a light blanket and covers herself. “Do you want a blanket, too?”
I shake my head.The last thing I need is to get cozy.
As the movie progresses, she yawns.
“You’re tired. You should go to bed,” I suggest.
“No, I want to see how it ends.”
“You can finish it tomorrow. I’ll pause it.” I lean forward to get the remote.
“No.” She places her hand on mine. “Don’t stop it. Please.”
I stare into her blue eyes, reading the words left unsaid. “Okay.”
