“Hello?”
Nothing.
And then something.
Breathing.
“Who is this?” I asked into the phone, leaning back against the island counter for support. My legs suddenly felt funny, like they were preparing to collapse and preparing to run at the same exact time. “I’m hanging up now,” I said, but let the phone stay pressed against my ear for an extra moment in silence.
I ended the call and dropped the phone onto the counter, checking the time. Korbin would be home any time. The front door was locked, and the place was secure. So why did I suddenly feel like someone was watching me?
“Get a grip, Peyton,” I muttered to myself, kicking off my shoes by the door so I could cross the floor and drape the throw blanket over my shoulders. I felt cold suddenly, even though Korbin’s place was kept warmer than my apartment in the city.
As I headed for the remainder of my bags on the floor to unpack them, my cell phone rang again. I hesitated, taking a sharp, deep breath before straightening up. I almost didn’t answer it, but what if it was Korbin?
I crossed the floor again and picked up the phone. Unknown number.
“Crank calls,” I muttered, but it didn’t make me feel better. With a forced sigh of irritation, I swiped my thumb over the answer button and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
Breathing. Light, vague breathing that I almost didn’t hear at first. But there it was. Again.
“Listen,” I said, resisting the urge to bite my fingernails nervously. “If you call me again, I’m going to report you for harassment. So, please, fuck off.” I ended the call again and dropped my phone, but this time my fingers were trembling a bit. I raised them to my mouth, pressing my fingers over my lips, fighting the fear that seemed to be rising in my soul.
Shit.
I forced a deep breath and then turned to resume my unpacking. Just as I took a step, the door rattled behind me, and I whirled around, a terrified scream bubbling in my throat. I hadn’t realized I’d grabbed my phone from the island to use it as a weapon until Korbin stepped through the front door, catching sight of me and putting his hands in the air.
“I surrender,” he said. “Don’t shoot!”
With a gasp of relief, I lowered the phone to my side and shook my head, blowing a whoosh of air between my teeth. “Sorry,” I said. Korbin shook his head, stepping forward to kiss me on the lips.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and I nodded, but my heart continued to thump angrily in my chest, almost painfully.
“Someone is crank calling me,” I told him, allowing his strong arms to embrace me, holding me close.
“Who?” he asked, and I laughed.
“I think that’s the point of a crank call. But no, they didn’t say anything. I just heard—breathing.”
“Breathing.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Korbin released me and went to the fridge for a beer, popping the top before taking a long drink. Then he set it aside and took me in his arms again. That’s the only place I wanted to be, really. “How many times did they call?” he asked.
“Twice.”
“Only twice?”
“Yes, Korbin, only twice,” I said, gently punching him in the arm. I was starting to feel silly for freaking out, but I was annoyed, nonetheless.
“Could you tell if the breathing was male or female?” he asked. I shook my head, realizing suddenly who it might have been.
“Jake,” I said suddenly, my heart dropping in my chest. “It’s Jake, isn’t it?”
