“I’m sure you did too.” Her smile twitches. Barely, but it’s there, letting me witness the facade cracking. “You don’t look like the type who writes code.”
“And what type is that?”
She shrugs. “Not you.”
I hold her gaze. Unblinking… Using these mirror-gray eyes to make her wriggle beneath the intensity. Even Roo hates when I hold eye contact for too long, saying it feels like I’m staring into her soul. It’s a neat trick I learned from a dodgy Irishman and his psychotic wife.
The woman before me breaks first, glancing toward the door for a heartbeat. Her next expression is softer, lashes lowering as she studies me like I’m an exhibit behind glass.
“Tell me, Eris… do you like being watched?”
There’s too much recognition in that question. My brain screams at her words, but I keep my face as natural as possible.
She knows something.
Or she thinks she does.
And she’s not here for Daniel.
My phone buzzes in my hand, though I don’t even acknowledge it. I just return her attention, and one-up it as I let myself squint at her, wrinkling my nose like I might be confused or disgusted.
She walks away as my drink is called… like she didn’t just throw a grenade into my morning plans.
I don’t look at my phone until I step outside the cafe a few minutes later and feel the cool morning air slap my thoughts back into place.
Only then do I pull up the HimLock app.
Eris:
Who is she?
You’re always watching me, so tell me who that woman was.
Locke:
Who?
Eris:
And how does she know about me?
Locke:
Who?
Eris:
Tall. Perfectly dyed blonde hair. Designer heels.
An expression that said she already knew me before I walked into the cafe.
Let me tell you how our conversation went…
She asked how I enjoyed being watched.
The reply hits so fucking fast it nearly startles me.
Locke:
