I haven’t slept well in days. Not since I realized beingher friend was more complicated than I initially thought. She’s just so reckless.
Friends shouldn’t have to change your business’s operating hours. Friends shouldn’t have to worry about how long you stay out after dark. Friends shouldn’t have to access your street’s surveillance feeds to make sure you’re safe.
I pull up a new window on the screen and scan through her call logs, just to see if there’s anything new.
One name keeps resurfacing.
Josh.
Four calls this week. A handful of texts. None of them answered.
Good.
She doesn’t want him. I can see it in the way she silences his calls. The way she deletes his voicemails without bothering to listen to them.
She wants me.
She texts me back every single time. Even when she’s telling me to fuck off, she’s engaging. She could block my number. Report me. Hell, even call the cops, but she doesn’t. Because some part of her likes this. Likes that I’m paying attention. Likes that I’m always there.
I pull up the store’s feed again to check on her. She’s moved closer to the front window now and is organizing the books in the display. Her long, dark hair is tied back today, and as she bends over to pick something up, a strand falls into her face. My hands itch with the urge to touch it.
She’s become an addiction. An obsession. And the longer I watch, the harder it is to look away.
“Hey, creeper.” Athena laughs, sneaking up behind me.
I slam my laptop shut and glare at her. “Jesus Athena, ever heard of knocking?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She asks, rounding my desk as her eyes dance with mischief.
“So…” She singsongs. “Who’s the girl you’re stalking?”
I frown. “No one, and I’m not stalking anyone.”
“Right.” She hops up on my desk, completely unbothered by my death stare.
“Well, that ‘no one’ sure is pretty.”
I scowl at her. “What do you want, Athena?”
“In-N-Out. River’s busy.” She shrugs. “I need human interaction.”
“Take security.”
She rolls her eyes. “I want a conversation, not a shadow.”
“Take Briggs.”
The shift in her expression is instant. Her smile falters just slightly before she schools her features back to neutral.
“He wouldn’t want to go with me.” She mutters.
“Did you ask him?”
“Whatever.” She slides off my desk, suddenly eager to leave. “I’ll figure it out.”
She pauses at the door and looks back at me. “You should get out of this office. You’re acting weird.”
“That’s what you always say.”
