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“Why?”

His brows raise. “I know you, Hot Lips. You haven’t left town.”

“This town has a nice gym.”

He just stares at me.

“Nice equipment. Flexible membership⁠—”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. That’s not the reason you’re still in Hollow Creek.” He folds his arms over his chest. “You could be anywhere.”

“I need to get something to eat.”

“We just ate.” He shakes his head. “Fine. Just say you don’t want to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Bullshit.”

I glare at him.

“Wherever you’re ‘staying.’” Beck even does fucking air quotes. “What if Callie follows you?”

I automatically look around the parking lot. No borrowed silver sedan. Or blonde curls. Or ridiculous wig. She’s probably home with the dog I’m not supposed to know she rescued.

“She won’t.”

Beck just watches me.

I glare at him before he can say whatever he’s thinking.

“Knock it off.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were going to.”

His grin returns. “She's rubbing off on you.”

“Leave.”

He laughs as he walks toward his truck.

I climb into the cab and take a deep breath. Still smells and looks the same.

From my peripheral vision, I catch something beneath the wiper.

Shit. I missed one.

I put down the window, then reach forward and grab it. My gaze snags on Beck’s truck. He's still sitting there, watching me.

I hold up my middle finger. His shoulders start shaking.

Asshole.

A laugh bursts free when I read the note.

Still think I'm bad at stalking?