He sighs. “Sorry, Daisy. It appears I’ve ruined your pizza tonight.”
And just like that—I bolt.
“I should really get going anyway,” I mumble, clutching my sweater, turning toward the door like it’s salvation.
I don’t look back.
But I feel it.
His gaze.
Burning. Following. All the way to the exit.
And even when I’m outside, rain pelting my skin and night swallowing the street?—
Even after I make it home, lock the door, and collapse against it, heart racing?—
That feeling doesn’t leave.
Istillfeel watched.
Chapter Six
I FORK’D UP
Afrustrated huff escapes me as I lift my duvet and peer underneath the bed.
Nothing but dust bunnies. Of course.
“Whereelsecould it be?” I mutter, scanning every nook and cranny of my room. I’m not ready to admit I might’ve left it at the pizza shop last night. Nope. Not until I’ve exhausted every other possibility.
“Whatcha looking for?”
I whirl toward the door, heart lurching, to find Casey leaning against the frame. His glasses are crooked—per usual—and he’s shirtless, also per usual, with a lazy smirk curving his lips.
I press a hand to my chest. “Shit, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you should probably start charging for that view.” He tilts his head. “You lose something?”
I clear my throat, ignoring his flirtatious remark. “Yeah. My bag.”
He steps into the room, arms folding over his chest. “Where’s the last place you saw it?”
The freaking pizza shop.
But I don’t say that out loud.
For some reason, I’m not ready to tell him about Mr. Hot and Broody behind the counter. It’s not like it’s any of his business.
Even if we do have a habit of oversharing with each other.
Well,usedto, anyway. He’s been quiet lately. Maybe he’s keeping a juicy secret too.
“I’m not sure,” I lie.
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s helpful.”
I flash him a sarcastic smile. “Thanks for your assistance, Detective.”
