Oh, great, apparently my stalker had been at it again.
“Yeah, okay, come on up.”
Was he trying to lull me into a false sense of security? Was he sending me real grocery orders until I let my guard down just to take the place of one of the delivery guys and abduct me to… what? Give me a thorough checkup?
I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what this guy’s endgame was, but hey, for now I got free groceries out of it, so I wouldn’t complain. Fresh produce was fucking expensive.
I opened my apartment door and frowned. There was something taped to it. Not a yellow Post-it, mind you. It seemed like my stalker had upped their game to full-on letters. I plucked the folded-up sheet of paper from my door and put it in the pocket of my sweatpants. I’d read it once the delivery guy was gone.
The elevator pinged, and out came Liam, with the same easy smile on his face that he’d worn last time. This time, he was carrying three bags of groceries, all filled to the brim.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the bags off him and letting out a small, surprised yelp at the weight of them. Holy shit, two of the bags were fucking heavy.
What had my stalker purchased? Bricks?
“Careful there, the weight of those potatoes, carrots, and rice adds up,” Liam helpfully supplied, giving me a friendly grin.
“Yeah…” I blinked. “I kinda forgot what I ordered.” Or rather, I had no idea what had been ordered because I hadn’t been the one doing the ordering. Not that I’d ever tell him that. Liam would probably think I was crazy, which, yeah, granted, wasn’t that far off.
I was sure I should be handling the situation differently, but I couldn’t be bothered to care right now. My couch was calling my name, loudly and insistently. I was following the doctor’s orders: I was resting. A.k.a. sleeping. I needed to catch up on all the sleep I’d missed the past couple of months.
Liam held the order slip out for me to sign, then gave me another of his easy grins.
“Have a nice day. And thanks for the tip.”
I blinked. “Uhm… you’re welcome.”
Apparently my stalker was decent enough to tip the delivery guy. Good to know.
I closed my apartment door behind me and put the groceries away, the note burning a hole in my pocket.
Carrots, chicken breast, rice, potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower.
A lot of the stuff the doc at the hospital had recommended I eat steamed and unseasoned.
How… Oh, right, medical fetish.
Shaking my head, I put away the last of the groceries—an assortment of tea that claimed to be good for the stomach—then crawled back under the afghan on my couch.
Then, and only then, did I open my stalker’s latest note.
Finn,
I took the liberty of ordering groceries again. There’s no doubt in my mind that the doctor ordered you to follow a light diet—and if he failed to do so, please let me advise you to take it easy on your stomach.
I know you haven’t listened to me before, but maybe now that you have confirmation about the accuracy of my predictions, you should understand I only want what’s best for you.
In case you need recipe ideas, feel free to leave a note on your door. I’m happy to supply you with a list.
Please remember to make a follow-up appointment with your primary care doctor if you haven’t done so already. It’s of the utmost importance that you get back on your feet.
How could one say “I told you so” without actually saying it? I snorted. The whole note reeked of condescension, but it was hard to argue against anything they’d said. They’d been spot on about everything that was going on with me.
Soo… maybe I should just listen.
I snorted.
The idea of listening to some random guy—or girl—leaving creepy notes on my door was absolutely mental. Something I wouldn’t even have considered if I were in my right mind. But I was fucking tired and exhausted and so fucking done worrying myself sick about everything. I just wanted to… not have to think for a while.
