Her smile returns anyway, slow and knowing. "Yes, Dr. Mercer."
My balls spasm, making me hate myself further. The elevator counter moves to ten.
Fuck.
I lead her toward the stairwell, away from the elevator.
She follows without hesitation, eager and excited, and tosses me a wide-eyed, suggestive gaze.
I hold in my groan and stomp up the steps.
Her footsteps tap lightly behind me, almost playful, like she's chasing me up to my bedroom instead of being marched toward a boundary lecture.
When we reach my floor, I hold the door open, and to my surprise, she goes directly to my front door.
I freeze, staring at her.
She knows my unit number.
Of course she does.
How?
She's Blue.
"Are we having this conversation out here so your neighbors can hear?" she asks, smirking.
I move her aside, unlock my door, and immediately shut it behind us. The click of the lock sounds final, but I remind myself she's only here to be told to stop stalking me.
Blue looks around like she's taking inventory. Her gaze sweeps over the living room, the couch, the open kitchen, and the coat I tossed earlier. Then her eyes land on me.
I stand between her and the rest of the condo, demanding, "Why are you standing on the street staring up at my home?"
She slowly unbelts her coat, as if it's a preshow of what's to come. She slides out of it, tosses it next to mine, then answers, "You were ignoring me."
"I was working," I bite out.
Her casual tone makes something spike in me again. "You were home. And you didn't reply to my texts from earlier."
"Because you shouldn't be texting me like that."
Her smile is small. "Like what? Checking on you? Asking if you always walk home? Making sure you're safe?"
I step closer. "You sent a photo of yourself outside, near my route."
Her expression doesn't flicker with guilt. If anything, she looks pleased. "I thought you'd like seeing me."
I stare at her, trying to find the right sentence that doesn't shatter this into something unmanageable, remembering that she has issues we need to get to the bottom of, and the wrong statement might cause her more damage. "Blue. You can't follow me."
Her voice stays honey-smooth. "I wasn't following you. I was nearby."
My tone hardens, "Don't play semantics. You were outside my building."
Her eyes widen slightly, an expression she uses like a weapon. "Because I missed you."
The words are a sharp blade, slipping under my defenses. I force myself not to visibly react, but my damn cock is committing treason. "That's not an appropriate reason to be here."
She takes one step toward me. "But it's the truth."
