Still, I lean forward and whisper, “I think he’s the Oakland Nightstalker.”
Her brows shoot up. “He admitted to it?”
“No. Of course not. He never denied it, though.”
“Well, sometimes, denying something vehemently is as good as an admission of guilt.”
“I guess I hadn’t considered that.”
“Maybe he thought you were kidding when you asked?”
“Maybe.”
Cutting into my steak, I consider every moment I had with Koen, every touch, every look. I never felt threatened while with him.
Before I was with him, maybe.
Even when I knew he could end it all, I wasn’t worried.
That could be from years of trauma after running him down on the side of the road, though.
“So, how was he in bed?” she asks, forking through her sweet potato to mash it with cinnamon butter.
I nearly choke. Taking a moment to swallow my food, I cough, drawing attention to our table. “What is the matter with you?”
She smirks. “I’m still your best friend. Murderer or not, I still need to know these things.”
“What purpose could my sex life with a murderer serve to you?”
She considers before saying, “Research. What if that’s why I haven’t found my soulmate?”
“Oh, so instead of defending bad guys, you’ll marry one?”
She shrugs. “Never know. Stop deflecting. How was the sex?”
Feeling lighter, I shake my head. “Epic. Unmatched. Something I’ll never find again.”
“Oh, damn.”
“What?”
“You have feelings for him. I’m sorry, babe.”
“I’ll be fine. I need to get back to normal. He resigned from my job for me, so tomorrow I have to sort that mess out.”
She chuckles. “Real piece of work, that one.”
“Right?! The nerve.”
“I don’t know, though. I saw his booking photos, and I’d look past just about anything that man did to get a piece of that.”
“Allison!”
We fall into easy banter back and forth before the check comes. We’re walking arm in arm to the parking lot to wait for my ride home, when Allison breaks the comfortable silence. “So, was he the one we hit?”
“Yup.”
“Fuck.”
