Page 67 of In the Dark

Damn it. I hated how my stomach turned thinking about that.

Romeo lifted his head, and his bright eyes seemed to ask me if I’d consider it.

Frankly, my stomach was growling. “Fine. Open sesame.”

Archer and his whole burly self with all black on walked in with a platter of chicken tenders and fries.

Callahan had learned and listened to a valuable thing I’d taught him. I’d never say no to good old-fashioned kid food.

“You brought a feast.”

“I brought what I’ve been told you should eat all of.” He set the plate down on the bed as he frowned at all the yarn.

“It’s supposed to look like this,” I defended myself. “Well, not really. It’s sort of a mess.”

“Okay, well …” He started to back out of the room.

“You’re supposed to eat dinner with me, remember?”

“Right. Or I could be right outside your door for you if you need me?”

“If I need you?” I tilted my head at him. “Why exactly would I need you rather than want you to have dinner with me?”

He smiled genuinely. “You’re in a new place. If you hear something, or—”

“I’m not scared, and I can take care of myself probably better than most of you would take care of me.”

He frowned before asking, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m sure you have the same idea as everyone else about me being here: It’s more work for you and you’d rather I wasn’t. I’m a Ruiz. I know what that means to you.”

“So? You insinuating I’d let something happen to you?” he asked in a tone that was appalled. “I wouldn’t,” he said seriously enough that I believed him. “You’re about to be a Knight and a Diamond, Ms. Ruiz. I take my job seriously.”

I looked him up and down. “Serious enough to prove it?”

“Prove what?”

“I do need help untangling the yarn at the foot of my bed.” I pointed with a crochet hook.

“Well, that’s not—”

“You said if I need you. I do need help with this.”

He glanced behind him and then back at me again. “You’re serious?”

“Dead.”

“Fine,” he huffed, and then he grabbed a big ball and glared at it. “This is a mess.” Then he looked around the room and saw a few of my clothes on the floor. “Your room doesn’t look great either. Callahan hates a mess.”

I lifted a brow. “Does he now?”

“Yeah, one time he even brought cleaners to my house because he couldn’t stand it.”

“Really?” I chuckled. “You’re that messy, Archer?”

And that’s how our friendship started. He talked my ear off about his past, and I listened while I ate. After about twenty minutes, I said through a bite, “I’m surprised you’re not complaining about being here. I appreciate the company rather than you standing outside my door.”

“Better than having Mia talk to me about her plants. When she moved in with Jameson, I watched her sometimes—”