I get closer to my window and squint. It’s a man with buzzed, jet-black hair and black gauges the size of a dime in his ears. “Shit. Yeah. That’s Matthias.” Weird. I don’t have a clue why he would be here.
Matthias rings the doorbell a third time, calling, “Lacy? You home?”
My instinct is to ignore the bell and protect him…but I don’t believe Kit will harm him. I request, “Open the door.”
“We’re naked,” Kit protests.
“In a robe. It’s fine. Please open the door. He’ll worry if I don’t.”
Kit huffs and puffs about that, but does open the door, saying aloud, “Hey, sorry. Was in the shower. Why are you here?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Be less confrontational.”
Matthias doesn’t react to the tone, though, lifting the reusable shopping bag in his hands in a gesture. “I brought you things to make you feel better. Can I come in?”
Kit steps aside, letting him enter. Matthias is a couple of inches taller than me with chipped black polished nails and a bit of stubble on his chin. He’s not threatening in the least, but Kit tenses as he glares at him.
Kit closes and locks the door. In the void, he asks, “Who is this guy?”
“Coworker. I told you.”
“I don’t trust him.”
I shoot back, “I don’t trustyou.”
“That’s rude.”
Matthias has only been over to my apartment once before, but he remembers it well enough to head straight for the kitchen. On my island counter, he places the bag down and starts to pull things out one by one. Ice cream, a face mask, shower steamers.
As he puts the ice cream in the freezer, he says, “Joanne said your brother was hurt—do you have a brother? I thought it was just you and Meggie?”
I say for Kit to repeat, “It is just me and Meggie. Meggie was the one in the accident. Joanne must have misheard me.” My stomach churns as I spit out that lie. If my sister ever got intoan accident, I don’t know what I would do. I wouldn’t be standing, that’s for sure. I’d be curled in a ball somewhere, unable to move. She is not allowed to leave me too.
Kit adlibs. “She’s okay, though, but I’m…I need a bit. It freaked me out.”
Matthias’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I’m sure it did. Anxiety like that, well, it can be possessing.”
Possessing. A memory slams into me like a truck.Oh my god.The night after the club rushes back to me, when I had control of my body. I texted him I was possessed. Does he know? Matthias has always been into spooky things—it’s why we bonded in the first place. He…he could save me.
“Right,” Kit says, crossing his arms and still glaring.
Matthias offers a small smile. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He makes his way to the front door but rotates back before he reaches it. “Oh, before I forget, I’m covering some of your sections while you’re out. Remind me, are fiction novels in other languages shelved in fiction or in the individual language sections?”
My brow furrows. Matthias trained me, so he knows the answer to that question. To test a theory, I say, “In fiction,” which Kit repeats. That’s not true, though. Spanish novels get placed in the Spanish section, same with French, German, etcetera.
Matthias’s eyes flash almost imperceptibly. “Got it. That’s what I thought. I’ll see you later, okay? Text me if you need me.” Then he’s out the door.
Holy shit.Matthias knows.
fourteen
. . .
In my bedroom,Kit is rifling through my underwear drawer. “Are you trying to embarrass me to death? Justpicka pair.” My hands cover my eyes, fingers slightly separated so I can peek through.
He’s holding his tongue between his teeth. “I need a pair that will look good under…aha!” He pulls out a black, lacy thong and waves it in the air like a prize. I don’t think I have ever worn those. I had purchased them for a special occasion that did not end up happening after my latest ex (the one with the dog) and I broke up. Kit tosses them onto the bed next to the black lacy bra. He has purposely found the sexiest underwear I own. Just like a man to put sex appeal over comfort.
He next pulls out a cropped long-sleeve black T-shirt I have, tossing that to the bed as well. Then he moves to the closet and grabs the final piece of the ensemble he’s putting togetherand?—
