“No one else’s window is within feet of where she set up the keg.”
Unhooking my seat belt, I lean close and give him a hug. “Thank you for the ride. So much better than walking.”
He tugs on the back of my shirt before I make it out of the car. “Hold up.” Deacon opens the center console and pulls out a single key. “Here’s the key to my room I promised. Stay in there tonight. You won’t hear them up there. Use the tub again if you want.”
“I’m definitely taking you up on the tub again but I’m sure the crowd will be gone by the time I get out, so I can stay in my room. I’d hate if you got off early and you couldn’t get some sleep because I was in there.”
He laughs and leans a little closer. “If I’m being honest, finding you in my bed wouldn’t be unwelcome.”
My cheeks heat and I duck my face into my shoulder. The huge, goofy smile is still in place when I look back up at him, which makes me blush even harder.
I’ve been alone for so long. So scared to let anyone in. Let anyone get close in case I lost them like I lost my parents.
But then I realize I’ve already let Deacon in. I’m already past the point where I would be devastated if something happened to him. I’d say it snuck up on me but it didn’t. It’s been growing slowly but steadily since he first moved in. This past week just highlighted how often I turn to him and how rock solid and there for me he is without question.
His hand slides into mine, our fingers lacing together.
The second his skin touches mine, I know I’m not alone in my feelings, even if I’ve only just recognized them for what they are.
There must be something in my expression that makes him think he’s overstepped because he starts to pull his hand away. I tighten my grip, trapping him. “I probably look like I’m freaking out or not open to whatever this is but I am. I’m just not very good at letting people get close. And I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. And not just this week. You don’t think I know you’re the one who refills my laundry detergent and makes sure there’s food in my cabinet? It’s not fair though. You’ve been so good to me and I haven’t done anything as nice for you.”
There’s surprise but then also something else in his gaze. Maybe it’s relief that I’m finally seeing what he’s been trying to show me. He slides his free hand across my cheek, into my hair. “You’ve trusted me with your biggest secrets. Looked to me when you needed someone. I think we’re pretty even.”
We stay like this for a few seconds until he slowly pulls his hand away from my face then unlinks his fingers from mine. “I better go. I’m close to bailing on work and going inside with you but Chris would kill me. Stay in my room. I’d love nothing more than to find you in there when I get home.”
Emotion clogs my throat and words fail me, so I can only nod. He watches me until I turn the corner and disappear from view.
I’ve gone from dreading the night to suddenly looking forward to it.
I unlock the exterior door to my room so I can get my things before going to his. Heading to the bathroom first, I load my caddy up with bath and hair stuff then move to the closet to grab some pjs.
Just as I shove my hand in the top drawer, I feel something sharp. “Ow!” I pull it out and my finger is bleeding. Carefully, I move the clothing aside piece by piece until I see it.
I don’t realize I’m screaming until Shane and Eddie rush into my room. Shane skids to a stop next to me. “What’s wrong?”
Eddie looks in my bathroom as if he’s searching for an intruder then pulls my curtain back to check my window.
My injured hand is balled against my chest and I’m trying to slow my breathing.
Shane leans closer to look into my dresser then at me, confused. “What the hell is that?”
Eddie moves in to see for himself. “Shit. That’s a big fucking knife.” He grabs a pair of sleep shorts and uses it as a barrier between his hand and the hilt, then holds it up for inspection.
“Is that dried blood?” Shane asks.
I feel like I’m either going to pass out or throw up when I see the engraving on the blade:bwb.
The program for the Rosary had Ben’s full name. Benjamin Wyatt Bayliss.
BWB.
“No. No, no, no…”
Shane steps back. “Holy shit. That knife looks like the same one that was on Ben Bayliss’s desk.”
“Those are Ben’s initials!” I take a step back, tripping over my own feet. “Someone’s trying to set me up!” I press myself against the wall, my hand on my heart as if I can stop it from racing.
“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, holding the knife higher to inspect it.
