“Whoever it is, they’re here. They know me. They know everything.”
I didn’t hear Langston move my way. I didn’t register his presence until his voice cut through my panic.
“Aven? What’s wrong? What happened?” His tone held concern. It was professional at first until he saw my mental state.
I spun toward him, nearly losing my balance as the room tilted. His hands reached out to steady me, warm and solid against my upper arms.
“It’s not him. Leo ... He’s in Peru. Has been with a new girlfriend,” I blurted out; my words tumbled out in a rush.
“Show me what you’re talking about,” Langston replied.
I gestured to my computer screen at the happy couple and pointed out the dates. “It’s not him, Langston. It’s someone else.Someone here in Goodwin Grove knows things only Leo would know. The cranes… someone here is replicating him.”
Langston’s expression shifted from concern to focused intensity, the security professional taking over. “Damn, you’re right. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Absolutely not. You can’t just appoint yourself my personal bodyguard. You have a business to run.” I protested as Langston packed up his laptop, already planning our exit strategy. The stubborn set of his jaw told me this argument was already lost. Langston, in protection mode, was a force of nature. I remembered this from high school when Dalvin Wright wouldn’t stop hassling me at prom. Back then, it was flattering. Now, with years of independence between us, it was like a step backward I wasn’t ready to take.
“This isn’t a discussion. If it’s not Morales, that means we’re dealing with someone local, someone who can access the building and who knows your schedule. Until we identify them, I’m responsible for you,” Langston said, his voice leaving no room for argument as he slid folders into his briefcase.
“I survived twelve countries on my own, including actual encounters with Leo. I can handle myself.” I reminded him, crossing my arms.
Langston paused, looking at me with an intensity that made my stomach flip. “I know you can, but you don’t have to. Not anymore.”
He reached for my hand, which was significant in the professional setting of his office. Something in his tone, the raw sincerity behind his words, deflated my resistance. It wasn’t about protection, and we both knew it.
“Fine, but I have errands to run, and I’m not sitting in this office all day while you hover.” I conceded, pulling my hand away before I did something stupid like intertwining our fingers.
An hour later, we were standing in line at Brew & Bean. Langston was behind me, his growing beard against my neck, when someone bumped into me from the side. Langston’s hand automatically found the small of my back, steadying me. The casual touch shouldn’t have affected me, not after everything we did in his office last night, but heat spread from the point of contact, making it hard to focus on the menu board.
“The usual?” the barista asked, recognizing me from my daily visits.
“Yes, please. And whatever he’s having,” I replied, gesturing to Langston without looking back at him. His hand hadn’t moved from my lower back.
“Black coffee and a blueberry muffin for her,” Langston added.
I turned to look at him, surprise probably evident on my face.
“You used to get them every morning before first period. Some things never change.” He shrugged, as if remembering my breakfast preferences from fifteen years ago was completely normal.
Yet so many things had changed. The Langston I knew in high school would have never dared to touch me so casually in public, too worried about his reputation, about what people would think seeing the “troubled” kid with the class president. Now, he stood confident and unapologetic, hand still resting on my back as we waited for our order, completely unbothered by the curious glances from other customers.
At Raina’shouse that evening, Langston continued his protective stance. He sat across from me at the dinner table, talking with my sister about the security business.
“Would you like seconds?” Raina asked, passing Langston a second helping of her famous pot roast.
I watched as my sister practically beamed at Langston. Raina, who had criticized every man I’d ever dated, including the ones she never met, was actually flirting with him… church-lady style, but flirting nonetheless.
“I love that you’re personally handling Aven’s… situation?” she noted, the comment loaded with double meaning.
Langston didn’t miss a beat. “Aven’s safety is my top priority. We have reason to believe the person leaving those items might be someone local, possibly connected to the office,” he clarified, his eyes meeting mine briefly across the table.
Raina’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s terrifying! Thank God she has you. Remember when he scared off Dalvin Wright at prom? Langston’s always been protective of you.” She turned to me, lowering her voice.
Heat rose in my cheeks. “That was a lifetime ago, Rain.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were dating again,” Raina continued, ignoring my warning glare.
Langston choked slightly on his water. We weren’t even technically dating in high school. We were too young and too scared to name what we felt.
