“And Pretty Boy needed help, so it totally makes sense that Dad took him in,” she admitted.
“I know,” I repeated.
Lila sighed.
“He’s a good biker, and I can’t even be justified in hating his guts. It’s infuriating.”
I laughed and offered the last of the fries to her. She took them with a grateful look.
After lunch, I stayed at Lila’s boutique for an hour or two to help out. But then I needed to finish packing up and clearing out of her apartment.
As I approached my Jeep, something fluttered on my windshield. Initially, I thought it was a promotional flyer. Or a parking ticket.
Until I came closer.
Trapped under the windshield wiper was a jewel-toned blue and black butterfly. The wings were tattered and torn, the legs folded up in death.
Had it been left here? Or had it been there all along and I simply didn’t notice it before?
My heart thundered hard against my ribs. Glancing around the parking lot, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
Next to Lila’s boutique, Pretty Boy was parked in the shade of the building, arms folded across his chest. It seemed as if he was taking a nap, but when he spotted me looking in his direction, he sat up a little straighter, alert and attentive for something wrong.
I waved him off to reassure him that I was fine.
After I was safely inside my Jeep with the doors locked, I sent a text to Trooper with a picture of the dead butterfly. Just as a precaution.
Maybe it was nothing.
But the knot in my gut said otherwise.
This was not an accident. This was a message. A warning.
By the time I left Lila’s apartment and returned to my house, Trooper was waiting for me in the driveway, leaning against his bike.
“You’re like a bad penny,” I said, climbing out of my Jeep. “I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try.”
He gave a small smile, but his sunglasses hid his eyes, concealing most of his expression, and his body language seemed a little more tense than usual.
“Well, then, you’re gonna love what I have to say next,” Trooper said.
He unhooked a backpack from his bike, slinging it over his shoulder.
“I’m spending the night on your couch.”
My heart skipped a beat. Trooper had crashed at my place on more than one occasion as a friend. That was nothing new. But that damn kiss was still on my mind. Was I ready to sleep under the same roof with him after that?
I gestured behind me at the rumble of Pretty Boy’s approaching motorcycle.
“You know, I have protection already.”
“Yep,” Trooper said in a flat voice.
I frowned. There was something…off about him.
“Why are you acting weird?” I demanded.
He shook his head and sighed.
