I was about to shove him out into the corridor when I had second thoughts. I probably shouldn’t trust him alone with Livy when I barely knew him and had no evidence to prove that he wasn’t a killer, even though I really didn’t think he was one. And how couldI make sure he wasn’t alone with my niece if I didn’t know where either of them was?
In my moment of hesitation, I heard Theo call out, “Ready or not, here I come!”
Wyatt squeezed in next to me, and I pulled the door shut. As soon as the darkness closed in around us, I seriously questioned my sanity.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
The old dumbwaiter shaft was so narrow that there was barely room for the both of us in there. My right shoulder was touching Wyatt’s chest, and my skin suddenly felt more sensitive, as if every square inch of it were aware of his proximity. My fingers twitched with the knowledge that his hand was likely mere inches from mine, well within grasping distance.
This, I knew without a doubt, was a terrible idea.
And not just because I couldn’t prove that Wyatt wasn’t Freddie’s killer.
I had serious doubts about his possible guilt—call it a gut instinct—but no doubts at all about the fact that I found him ridiculously attractive.
The urge to flee wrestled with the temptation to move closer to Wyatt. My flight response got the upper hand, and I grabbed the doorknob and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t budge. I rattled it and shoved my shoulder against the door, but it remained stubbornly shut.
“Did you lock this thing?” I asked.
“I don’t have a key. And why would I do that?”
I ran my fingers over the doorknob. Sure enough, it wasn’t thekind that could be locked from the inside. It was just plain old stuck. I gave it another jiggle, to no avail.
“I’ll have a go.” Wyatt’s hand searched for the doorknob and found my fingers instead.
I sucked in a breath at his touch and let go of the doorknob. Wyatt’s hand fell away from mine.
“Sorry,” he said.
“S’okay.” I barely recognized my breathless voice as my own.
He turned the doorknob and gave the whole door a good shake.
Theo’s voice drifted down the hall. “I’m going to find you!”
I grabbed Wyatt’s hand to stop him from rattling the door. “Shh!”
I wasn’t sure why it felt so important to not let Theo find us. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself that the seventeen-year-old wasn’t better than me at everything in life.
We fell still, listening for any signs of Theo’s approach. Silence rang around us, making me hyperaware of my every breath, and Wyatt’s too. When I realized I was still holding his hand, I dropped it like a hot potato. My heart absolutely wasn’t thudding in reaction to the feel of his skin against mine.
A few more seconds ticked by.
“Should we continue?” Wyatt asked.
“Continue what?”
My brain—probably delirious—shouted possible answers at me.Holding hands? Getting acquainted? Smooshing closer until our bodies are plastered together?
Maybe it was my imagination, but the temperature in the cubbyhole seemed to shoot up several degrees.
“Debriefing,” Wyatt replied.
“Oh.” My shoulders, which had inched up toward my ears, lowered. From relief or from disappointment, I wasn’t quite sure. “Right. Sorry. It’s a little hard to think while…um…playing a game.”
“Not a multitasker then.” I could hear the amusement in his voice.
