Everything is pretty, a nice combination of thongs and bikini panties, in different colors, though she leans more toward nude and black. There are a handful of bra and panty sets that she keeps together in little cubbies she has in the drawer and for a moment, I puzzle over them.
Do women really compartmentalize their underwear drawers? I throw mine in one drawer with my socks and don’t fold my boxers at all. It’s a mess I dig through every time I need something. I’m more efficient when traveling, using packing cubes because I don’t have time to dick around with that kind of thing when I’m on a mission, but Shannon’s setup is curious to me.
I reach out to touch a lacy piece of cloth and almost smack myself as I jerk back to reality.
What the fuck?
Why the hell am I thinking about how she stores her panties? I’m not a pervert and, dammit, the fact that I jerk off to memories of our kiss has nothing to do with what I’m doing now.
Liar.
I almost laugh at the subconscious thought that whips through me because I am definitely a damn liar in this situation. Rooting through her drawers gives me a ton of pleasure, added inspiration to upcoming fantasies, and makes me want to wait for her to get home and announce myself.
Dumbass.
I take a breath and finish going through all her drawers without further distraction. There are no hidden compartments, envelopes, or wads of cash that might send up a warning. There wasn’t anything unusual in the cannisters in her kitchen, the books on her shelves are actual books and not decoys used for storing important documents or items, and even her freezer is devoid of any red flags.
Everything in her bathroom appears to be just what it’s supposed to be. Nothing is hidden behind paintings or picture frames, and I’m running out of both time and patience.
I check under the bed, mattress, and throw rug. Nothing. This is getting tedious now that I’ve forced my amorous thoughts away. I’m just about to give up when I notice a slight variation in the compartments of her wooden headboard. It has sliding doors, which she uses to hide a handful of personal items like nasal spray and tissues, but as I glance under the bed again, I see that there is something attached to the bottom of the compartment.
I feel around and finally find a latch.
Huh.
She attached a completely separate box, with a trick door, to the bottom side of her headboard. Anyone who isn’t trained to find anomalies wouldn’t catch it.
I snap it open and two thick binders fall out. I blink and stand up, holding them carefully. I open the first page and grimace.
Sweet Jesus, I’m definitely going to hell.
I just found her diary.
Chapter 6
Shannon
I’m on pins and needles all through my morning classes. I don’t dare check the nanny cam website while I have students in the room because I don’t trust myself not to shriek like a madwoman if I actually see something, but it’s all I think about. By the time I get to my planning period at ten o’clock, I’m a nervous wreck.
I open my laptop and click on the site. It takes a few minutes to connect, but then my living room flashes onto the screen. And there’s a man on my couch.
Reading my fucking diary.
My heart nearly pounds out of my chest as I stare at the screen. I wasn’t imagining it. Someone is literally in my apartment. I should call the police. Or Mrs. Winkelhofer. My mother.
Fuck me loud!
I need to do something but don’t know what.
The police.
Definitely the police.
But then the man in my apartment looks up and the hand that was reaching for my phone freezes in midair.
It can’t be.
I squint, cocking my head and leaning closer, as if that will somehow make the picture clearer.
