Pacing up and down the apartment with Pancake watching every step I take is reminding me why I’ve avoided relationships for such a long time.
I mean, also the whole not trusting ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the male race, but this full-body panic thrumming through me is definitely up there.
The photos are still strewn across the table, and the note is on the floor from when I dropped it in my haste to get to my phone.
Maybe I should have gone to meet him.
Strength in numbers and all that.
What exactly do you think you could do that Colten can’t?
Okay, that’s a good point. Sure, I’ve done my fair share of self-defense training, but I certainly can’t take down a man three times my size as easily as Colten can.
My presence would probably distract him from being able to get home where it’s safe.
Home.
God, when did I start thinking of the apartment as home?
It feels like yesterday that I was demanding Colten take me back to the estate so we could explore our match in a more traditional way.
I’m so glad he didn’t.
The last couple of weeks have been better than any dating phase could ever have been. I don’t care if we’ve moved quickly, because in reality, we haven’t.
Colten and I were inevitable. Written in the stars. It just took us being matched by the matchmaker to realize we were made for one another.
I check my phone again, my chest clenching painfully when I see it’s been almost forty minutes since our call ended. He said he would only be twenty, and the fact it’s been double that has my anxiety skyrocketing.
What if something’s happened?
What if he’s hurt?
I can barely breathe as I spot Colten’s laptop on his desk.
He said he and Cruz had trackers put in everyone’s phone. Maybe I can check his location that way, just to reassure myself he’s okay.
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and consider my options.
It may be an invasion of privacy to try to get into his computer, but it’s no worse than him having tabs on me for years and me being none the wiser.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, but when our safety is part of the equation, the gray area feels like an okay place to be.
Decision made, I plop down into his chair and tap the trackpad until the screen comes to life.
Password required.
I tap the desk a few times, thinking through what Colton’s password may be.
Knowing him, it’s probably something super long and secure, but I may as well give it a couple of tries before admitting defeat.
Taking a chance, I try the first thing I can think of, my name and birthday, but it comes up as incorrect.
Next, I try my nickname paired with my date of birth, and again it denies me entry.
Maybe it was silly of me to think it would have anything to do with me.
As I’m about to give up, Pancake jumps up on the desk and flops over the top of my arms, locking me into place.
