Page 116 of To All the Guys I Killed Before

“Apparently this is going to be a longer conversation.” She sighs and sets down a wiggling Cosmo. “Come on.”

She jerks her head toward the chairs around the firepit, but I hesitate when we’re close enough to feel the flames.

“Shit,” I mutter. “Is this okay?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not scared of a little fire, Dr. Huge-o Bore. Rue and I are both tougher than that.”

She proves it by taking the chair closest to the gas-powered unit. I take the chair next to her, and once I’m settled, she turns to study my face, like she’s deciding what to say next based on what she sees there.

“Tell me: how are you and Greg not the same?”

I growl at the mention of his name, and she holds up her hands.

“Geez, take it down a notch.”

I keep a tight hand on my temper and say evenly, “I didn’t film her having sex without her knowledge and then put it online for the internet’s worst men to see.”

“True. Good job not being a total monster.” She tilts her head, flames reflected in her glasses. “Remind me, how many cameras were in her half of the duplex the day she moved in?”

My jaw works.

“Three.”

“And how many the day she ran out?”

I don’t answer.

“Say it. How many?”

“…thirteen.”

She widens her eyes. “Gosh, math isn’t my strong suit. If you started with three and ended with thirteen, how many did you install while she was living next door to you?”

“You’re a data analyst who went to Stanford and graduated summa cum laude. You tell me.”

“Okay, we’re definitely circling back to that.” She leans forward in her chair, her unflinching gaze fixed on me. “The number, Hugo. How many did you buy and install with your own hands when she wasn’t home?”

“Ten,” I say, my lips barely moving. Then, “Thirteen. I upgraded the original three.”

No point in hiding it.

“That’s a lot of cameras for safety purposes,” she says thoughtfully. “Some might argue too many. Like maybe thirteen too many.”

I may not have been able to defend the numbers, but I sure as fuck can defend myself against the sarcasm.

“Yes, safety. She never let me explain all the things I did for her.”

Felicity makes a “carry on” gesture, and since Rue’s not here, I’ll have to treat her twin as her proxy.

“I made sure she was locked in every night. I know how important that is to her. I unplugged her iron after she left for work. I once took her car from the gym parking lot to get its oil changed because she was two thousand miles overdue. Two thousand! That’s what the cameras let me do.”

Felicity’s expression is impassive. “Big fucking hero. Did she ask you to do any of that?”

My glare is my answer.

“Did you tell her you did any of that?”

More glaring.