But she hadhypotheticallybeen talking about an after. He should nip that in the bud. Instead he was acknowledging it?
She’d thought he didn’t like thekiss. He still couldn’t get over it. She was so damn pretty and funny andsweet, but she didn’t necessarily see it. Not enough to thinkhemight see it.
He hit Send on the damn text. Then stomped around his apartment, irritated and frustrated, getting ready for bed. He was going to sleep and sleep well. Tomorrow he’d have answers and…
And maybe anafterto think about, but until then, it didn’t matter.
He turned off all his lights, got into bed, then lay there staring at the ceiling.
She tasted likespringwas all he could think. That sharp, bright slice of hope after a long, dark winter. And he shouldn’t think or feel or accept that.
His phone dinged, and he all but lunged for it, figuring Franny would have responded.
But it wasn’t Franny. It was a text from Zeke.
We’ve got a problem.
Chapter Seventeen
Albennie was safe, but even after Franny spoke to Lia, and even though she was exhausted from the allergy attack, Franny still didn’t sleep.
Not because she was afraid. Not because her allergic reaction hadn’t fully gone away. She didn’t sleep because she wasobsessing.
About that kiss.
About Royal Campbell.
About what wasnextif Albennie was safe and sound in one piece and cominghome.
It was a relief, but there was such a lack of answers, it was hard to relax and just…believe everything was going to be okay. She had expected Lia to be ecstatic when Franny had called with the news, but she’d been…reserved. Kind of like Royal. Like they were afraid to hope for the best.
It reminded her that Lia had made a joke about hating cops. Maybe it wasn’t a joke. Maybe she had a background like Royal did.
Royal.
Her phone pinged. She felt twin pangs of worry and excitement when she saw it was a text from Royal. She opened the text, then just…stared.
Hypothetically, I didn’t stay because I don’t trust myself around you.
She stared at that text, her heart fluttering in her throat. Didn’ttrusthimself around her?
She might actually for the first time in her life understand the wordswoon. Maybe she shouldn’t find that sweet. And hot. And romantic.
But she did.
Except she didn’t have the first clue how to respond. She wanted to say something flirty, but she didn’t have any experience being that. So she lay there in bed, agonizing over how to respond, but it seemed in only a blink she woke up to the sun streaming through her windows, the phone cradled to her chest.
She’d forgotten to shut the blinds yesterday. And clearly the allergy meds had conked her out, because she’d never responded to Royal’s text and it was morning. Late morning at that.
“Way to go, Franny,” she muttered, but she didn’t even have time to consider self-recriminations because she realized someone was knocking on her door.
And when she looked at her phone screen to see what time it was, she saw she had three new texts from Royal.
I’m giving it two more minutes then I’m breaking down the door, came the last one.
She jumped out of bed, hurriedly typing as she moved for the front door. Because she was pretty sure he would do just that, and even though she wastemptedto want to see it, she knew she’d feel foolish later.
I’m awake, she texted, then opened the alarm app on her phone and disengaged it. Then she unlocked the front door to Royal standing there, scowling.
