“No.” I cross my arms like a shield. “I’ve never been to a Dragons’ game before, and starting now will look wildly suspicious.”
Sylvan smiles. It’s patronizing. “Wildly suspicious, huh?” He exhales through his upturned nose. “Go to the game. Everyone does.”
“Not me.”
“It’s free, with your ID.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then there’s no reason not to go. Besides, you don’t want to be here alone on a Friday night, do you?” There’s the veil of a threat in his words.
“I thought you said Will won’t bother me again.” I hope I hide the anxiousness in my voice.
Sylvan’s smile is gone. “He won’t. Go to the game,please.”
My heart races. It was a cold plea, but it was… oddly polite. Especially for a New Yorker. No wonder the Canadians embraced him.
“When it’s over, Faust and I will meet up with you.”
“Where? I’m not meeting you two behind Sky again.”
“You’ve probably heard a lot of stereotypes, but we’re not all stupid, Neve.”
I swallow hard, but I don’t reply. My type isn’t athletes. They’re too busy to give me the constant attention I need to feel secure in a relationship. Actually, everyone is, which is whyI consistently fuck them up. If I don’t make it serious, I’m untouchable.
“Give me your number so I can let you know where to find us.” He glances at my phone on the counter.
I snatch it up, as if he’ll take it from me, and my phone unlocks the screen, but mercifully, my notifications are all hidden.
But the unknown number. The countdown.
Did Will lie about his phone going missing? Or is someone watching me?
“No,” I tell Sylvan, staring up at him, grateful for the distance between us.
His dimples show as he pulls something from his pocket and I tense.
But it’s just a phone, white, no case. Risky.
I squeeze my own cell and the gothic cathedral case wrapped snuggly around it.
“Give me your number, Neve.” His fingers are doing something on his phone, maybe typing in my name, but I’m not giving him my number. He has myaddress,somehow. If he wants to know my cell, he can find it himself.
“Get out of my apartment.” I keep my voice steady.
He smiles wider at me, his fingers still working on his phone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Then he pushes his phone into his pocket and turns toward the door. Without looking back, he adds, “Lock the door, as soon as I leave.”
He doesn’t need to tell me that.
The minute he’s out, closing it softly behind him without another look back, I’m striding across the kitchen, into the entrance hall, phone in hand. I flip the deadbolt, and I swear I hear his footsteps move away down the corridor as I do, as if he was waiting for me to lock it before he left.
My heart hammers hard in my chest.
I pull down the notification center on my phone, still standing right at the door.
Missed texts from Nolan, one that just came in from Cyn, a weather alert about a snow storm tomorrow.
