But I remembered what she’d done toAshley, and I remembered that he hadn’t ever said she’d done anything to redeemherself.
There was no view of thestables from Ashley’s room, so nothing there had changed.
“Yeah, uh. Thank you.”
The door to her bedroomswung open wider, and I caught a glimpse of pastel pink furnishings and a bigposter with a rose on it taped to the wall above a small white desk.
A shiver ran through me as Ithought of the rhyme that had been a running theme in the stalker’s notes. Rosesare red, violets are blue.
It was the bedroom of afourteen-year-old, I thought. She was a couple of years younger than Ashley,but notthatyoung. Twenty-four, twenty-five, something like that.
Maisie stepped out of herroom and let the door swing closed behind her, standing close to me in thehall.
Too close, close enough tomake my skin prickle.
I remembered what Ashley hadsaid earlier, and wondered if I was imagining things, or…
She smiled a slow smile atme. “Wedon’t get a lot of men like you around here,” she said.
Shit.
I couldn’t offend her.When I left, she could just as easily take it out on Ashley.
I had no reason to doubtwhat he’dtold me. No reason to doubt that shewould.
“Bodyguards?” I tried.Pretending to be dense was probably my best shot.
It helped that Iwasdense, so the part wasn’t all that hard to play.
Her eyes lit up. “You’re cute,”she said, putting a hand on my chest.
Wow.
I didn’t want her handthere, but I wasn’t sure how to remove it without causing a scene.
“I’m Logan,” I joked. Isounded ridiculous, but what else was I going to do?
She giggled.
I’d never in mylifebeenuncomfortable with a woman touching me and giggling. This was a dream scenario,most of the time.
Right now, though, it was anightmare. What if Ashley woke and saw this?
… he’d understand, Irealized.
He’d know it was Maisie, notme, and he’d accept an apology. Because he was smart, and kind, and he thoughtthe best of people.
How many times did theseassholes have to kick him before he’dstoppedthinking thebest of them?
“Listen, no offense, but I’mnot interested,” I said.
She stepped back like she’d been burned,her face twisting. Not into disappointment, or embarrassment, but anger. Rage.
“You’re gay,” she said,spitting it like a curse.
“No,” I responded, and itwas true. Gay wasn’t the right word, and I didn’t owe her an explanation. “Justnot interested.”
Ashley couldn’t stay here. Notif she was staying.
