“Wes, me,probably Noah.”
“Oh my—wait, who the fuck is Noah?” Lola breathes out. “Callie, you need to give me more information about this. About everything. I’m dying!”
“Noah is Wes’s brother.” I chuckle at the expression on her face. Intense interest and awe. I’m probably giving way too much information, but I love her reactions. It’s exactly how I’d imagined her responding.
“Are you sure you should be traveling with two strange men?” Her brow furrows.
“Um, I’m sleeping with one of them, so I think we’re okay.”
Lola leaps up from her chair and screams. Actually screams.
“Shhhhh,” I crack up and wave her back down to her chair. She ignores me, probably because it’s her bookstore.
“Callie! You’re fucking the guy who’s finding your husband?” She lowers her voice dramatically for the wordfucking.
“I mean, yes?” I can feel my face heat, and I definitely can’t wipe the giant smile off my face.
“You look… happy. Good. Oh my god, Callie. I’m happy for you.” Lola throws her arms around me and practically sits on my lap.
“Easy, it’s not like we’re getting married. It’s just sex. Just for now.”
“Are you sure?” Lola returns to her chair.
“I’m sure.”
“Maybe he’s a reason to stay in Portland?” The hopeful look on Lola’s face is painful.
“No. This changes nothing. It’s just some entertainment while I’m still here.”
Lola sighs, deflated. “Okay, I guess. Can youtell me, like, everything?”
“Not everything, no.”
“Start somewhere, Callie!”
I smile and give her a cleaned-up version of my time with Wes. She doesn’t need to know about the intense connection we seem to have. How he’s stalking me, how I’m trying to be dangerous, how he’s loyal and kind and is kind of obsessed with me.
How he’s a serial killer.
I’ll keep those things close to my heart.
Chapter 27
Cute and Delicious
WES
Iwatch from a dark shadow across the street as Callie gives Lola a long hug at the entrance to the bookstore. She looks relaxed and happy, and I’m assuming she’s made up with her best friend. Great. The woman needs more good people in her life, not fewer.
There hasn’t been a minute of my time since I dropped her off last Saturday morning that hasn’t been filled with thoughts of Callie. Her smiling at me, her laughing, the way her tits felt in my mouth, how her pussy clenched around my cock again and again. Her gorgeous dark eyes. The way she tastes. I’m so consumed, and forty-eight hours later, it’s only gotten worse.
What I want Callie to do right now is call a car service. Her car’s not an option as she walked the seven blocks from her apartment to the bookstore after driving home from the library an hour ago.
This might not fall in the same category as stalking a serial killer or tracking Noah and I as we eliminate a target, but it’s still not safe. Why won’t she keep herself safe?
Callie zips her pink puffy coat and looks around. The sun’s just set. She pulls out her phone, and I think, yes, she’ll call a car service, but instead she starts walking, still staring at her device. Not even paying attention to her surroundings.
“Fuck.” I groan and watch her go down the block, only hesitating a moment before following her. Then my phone buzzes. I sent her a picture of Sir Fluffy while she was with Lola. Then I sent her a picture of an apple pie. It’s like I can’t stop.
