She laughs, and the sound hits me in a way I can’t ignore. “Of course you aren’t. What movie?”
“She’s the Man,” I say, watching her eyes light up.
“Shut up! You’re lying, that’s my favorite movie!” She’s bouncing in her seat with giddiness.
Proving that it is indeed her favorite movie, she begins imitating the famous lines. “‘Do you like cheese? Why yes, my favorite is Gouda.’”
I can’t help but laugh along with her. Something about her just eases my tension and makes me feel weightless. All the stress from residency applications, my rotation, my responsibility for Jake, and even this kidnapping—it all evaporates the longer I sit here talking to her.
She tucks one of the hairs falling around her face behind her ear, the movement causing a faint scent of vanilla to waft over me. Her eyes sparkle when she smiles, and I swear my chest tightens every time they meet mine. I shouldn’t have noticed her smile. I shouldn’t care. But I do. And I can’t stop myself. We stop talking as the waitress drops off our food. She was not kidding when she said she wanted ten pancakes; the stack is so tall it almost comes up to her chin. I’m not even sure where she’s going to fit them all.
I ordered the Pops’ Special from the menu: two eggs, crispy bacon, and a warm, flaky homemade biscuit. My mouth waters and stomach rumbles before I even pick up my fork. I didn’t have breakfast this morning since I was trying to get to her in time.
“Okay, what about a dream vacation?” She glances up at me while spreading butter on every single one of herpancakes, her long lashes framing her doe brown eyes. As a physician, I am genuinely worried about her cholesterol health. That’s a lot of butter.
“Somewhere cold and secluded, like the mountains. You?”
“Definitely a beach, toes in the sand, and a good book in my hand. The perfect vacation.”
Instantly, I’m picturing her on the beach in a dark green bikini, the color complementing her olive-toned skin and bringing out the color of her eyes. I shouldn’t be thinking of her this way but can’t seem to stop myself when it comes to her. Every time she fires off another question, it’s like she reels me in a little tighter, her grin daring me to play along.
15
Charlie
Maybe I’ve hit my head on the island counter one too many times while baking, but I swear, I’m havingfungetting to know my captor. Which is absolutely insane. Who enjoys a kidnapping? Yet here I am, sitting across from him, laughing like this is some twisted first date instead of a felony in progress.
I’m still slightly worried this kidnapping might be the real deal, but a small, delusional part of me is holding out hope for a captor-to-lovers story arc. Because honestly? He’s making it hard to remember I’m supposed to be terrified. The man brought me an entire store’s worth of feminine products and chocolate, and is currently feeding me enough carbs to feed a small village. It’s like he graduated top of his class in Book Boyfriend 101.
And I swear he’s flirting with me. Or maybe I’m just projecting. Still, I really hope he is flirting because if he’s into me, maybe he’ll reconsider killing me.
“Y’all doing okay over here?” Dee Dee’s voice startles me from my thoughts. She smiles as she tips the pot of fresh coffee toward his half-empty cup.
Her silver-streaked waves sway as she leans in, catching the morning sun streaming through the blinds. The floral perfume she always wears wraps around me, familiar but a tad suffocating. Like did she spritz or douse in it this morning?
Looking into her blue eyes, I remember why I insisted on coming here. I knew this was it. The moment I’ve been waiting for to escape. All I need to do is subtly send her a signal, something inconspicuous. But before I can open my mouth, her eyes flick from him to me, and her smile widens. A mischievous grin spread across her face. Oh shit. I know that face. She thinks we’re on a date.
“Well, hi there, sugarplum. Who’s your friend?”
Of course, the town matchmaker is more worried about hitching up us poor single souls than recognizing a kidnapping when she sees one. Dee Dee’s famous for her matchmaking skills—rumor has it she can size up a couple in thirty seconds flat and declare them a perfect match. People actually come from out of town to get her seal of approval before their weddings. More than once, a teary-eyed fiancé has come running out of the diner after getting the bad news.
And to be fair, without the sack over my head, the bound wrists, or his mask, we look like the picture-perfect date. The kind you’d scroll past on Instagram with a heart emoji and a “couple goals” comment—minus the felony.
“Oh, this is…uh—” What was I supposed to say?This is my captor, name redacted because I still don’t know if he’s going to kill me or not.
“I’m Aiden,” he interjects, like we’re networking at some business mixer.
Aiden. The name suits him. I know it’s Celtic—something about fire and nature. You read one dark romance book about a Celtic warlord and end up three hours deep into a name-meaning rabbit hole. Apparently, “Aiden” means “little fire.” Which tracks, because we’re in that slow-burn trope, and he’s exuding thatruin me in the best waykind of energy.
“Nice to meet you!” Dee Dee beams. “Don’t let me interrupt. I know a first date when I see one.” She looks at me conspiratorially.
I nearly choke on my hot cocoa, sputtering against the whipped cream. You’re boyfriendless for three years, and suddenly every guy you are with is your date.
“Don’t be shy,” she says with a wink, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I’ve got an eye for thesethings, and I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”
My cheeks flame, the heat prickling my skin. I shake my head so fast I’m worried I might get whiplash. “It’s not like that.”
Aiden clears his throat, probably trying to get Dee Dee to leave so he can get on with this kidnapping. I’m positive the previous girls he kidnapped weren’t this embarrassing. A wave of possessiveness courses through me at the thought of him with other captives. How illogical, considering they’re probably dead because of him. But something about his eyes doesn’t screamI’m a killer!
