Cora surprises me by reaching out and running her hand along my cheek, her eyes trailing the places she caresses. "You know all this about me, and I know nothing about you." Her gaze meets mine. "Tell me something true."
I swallow the fear that had been rising at not knowing how she would react to my admission that I've been stalking her. It's not exactly a redeeming quality, and it's enough to get me put in jail, and yet she's still here, her body not having moved an inch away from mine.
She should. She should run and get as far from me as possible, because a man like me is dangerous and bound to ruin her life, but I'm too selfish to let her go and part of me is sick enough in the head to think she likes it.
"Something true..." I want to open myself up and allow her to see whatever it is she wants, but that's never been easy for me. I've gone through life with very few friends and people I could trust. I've longed for the type of relationship I've witnessed others having, I just never thought it was possible for me. I'm not even entirely sure how to give her what it is she's asking for. So instead, I settle for, "You're gorgeous."
Cora rolls her eyes. "That doesn't count."
"What do you want to know?" There, maybe if she gives me something specific I can answer her instead of having to come up with the data on my own.
"How many people have you killed?"
Her question doesn't surprise me as much as the answer does...because as hard as I think about it, I'm not entirely sure.
"A few," I reply.
"Why do I have a feeling you do not mean six?"
I chew at the inside of my lip. "Honestly, I lost track a long time ago."
"That's okay."
"It is? That doesn't scare you?"
Cora shakes her head. "I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be."
"You'd never hurt me," she whispers.
My heart skips a beat, and I grow grateful that even though she doesn't know much about me, she's at least aware of that one, very big truth.
"Never on purpose," I tell her and hope she realizes that I would do anything but bring her any discomfort. "Oh, and something else..."
"Yeah?"
"It's not my apartment."
Cora blinks at me a few times. "What?"
"This isn't my apartment. It's yours. That's why your things are in it."
She sits up and looks at me. "What?"
I laugh and lie back, folding my hands and resting them behind my head. "You heard me."
"That's insane," she says, glancing around. "This entire unit? It's mine?"
I nod and a strange warm sensation flows over me. Is this...happiness?
"It's yours, I promise. You never have to go to your parents’ house ever again if you don't want to."
"I can't afford to live here. This place must be expensive to upkeep."
"When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you don't have to worry about stuff like that anymore? I'm loaded, babe. Whatever you want, it's yours." I'd give her the fucking moon if I could. But on second thought, maybe I know a guy who could make that happen.
"Miller, this is too much." She slumps her shoulders and holds her bear to her chest.
