"I know, I’m supposed to be a pillar of integrity." He smirked. "Believe it or not, I'm only human."
"I'm not sure if I believe that." I ran my thumb up and down the handle of my matcha mug.
"Believe it," he said. "I'm just a regular guy deep down. With regular needs and wants." His gaze dropped down to where my breasts were hidden under the black cashmere sweater I wore under my hooded jacket.
Heat crept up my cheeks.
"Is that all you want?" I asked without thinking.
His gaze rose slowly. "No, that's not all. Like I said, I want to get to know you. I want to know what makes you tick."
I leaned forward, propping myself on my elbows. "What if you find out I'm really, really boring?" I asked.
He laughed. "Part of my job is being a good judge of character. I can tell you're not boring. In fact, I already know you're the opposite of boring. You're intriguing."
"I’m just…"
My phone vibrated with another text message. I should have ignored it, but instead I said, "Excuse me," and pulled my phone out of my pocket.
It was another message from the same number.
Unknown caller
Sooner than you think
"Sable, are you all right?" Forrest's brow creased with concern. "You look pale."
"I'm fine." I shoved my phone back in my pocket. He looked at me like he knew I was lying. "It was a wrong number."
That was possible. Whoever was sending me those texts might have intended them for someone else.
"Do I have to ask for your phone records?" he asked. "I could sign off on that."
I gaped at him. "You wouldn't—" I started.
"No, I wouldn't. I'm worried. You looked like you saw a ghost."
"I didn't," I said quickly.
Thank fuck for that. The idea of being haunted by Wolfgang made me want to be sick. Spending two years with him was bad enough.
"If there's anything I can do to help…" He moved his hand toward mine before pulling it back and crossing his arms.
"I'll let you know," I assured him.
Part of me wanted to tell him. I didn't. No doubt it was a case of mistaken identity or some kind of prank. He had better things to do than worry about something that wasn't legitimate. Wasn't important.
I should put it out of my mind. Block the number and move on. Why hadn't I done that already? I shouldn't have responded in the first place. They probably thought it was hilarious, the idea of scaring me with their texts. It was crazy. I needed to stop jumping at shadows.
"Are you seeing someone?" Forrest asked.
Glad for the change of subject, I said, "I haven't been out there…" I wanted to slap my hand against my forehead. "You mean a therapist?"
The sides of his mouth tugged up, but he suppressed a full smile, as if worried I'd think he was mocking me.
"Yes, I meant a therapist," he said. "Sometimes it helps to talk things through with a professional."
"You've gone to therapy?" It was none of my business, but he'd brought it up in the first place.
