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“I might miss a notification I need.” Her dog licked her neck, and for one vulnerable second, the pissed-off chick, who was having none of this conversation, relaxed and lay down on her couch.
“Only on phone calls,” he countered.
“Yeah.” She laughed as the dog tickled her until she shoved him away. “I’ll go into my settings and auto-reject any call from unknown numbers.”
Good. Compromise. Teamwork.They were heading in the right direction. This was something they could do. “Second, I need to know these things so we can rule out that it’snotwho you’re calling Stalker Boy.”
She propped up on an elbow, ready to protest, but he shook his head. “Ella, I know you’ve been doing this on your own.”
“I have a team.”
“Then with your team. And that you have a gut feeling on it, but now you have my team too.”Theteam. The best in the world. Didn’t she know that? “We need to be looped in for no other reason than to take out the noise as we monitor the chatter.”
She focused on the dog. “It’s not him.”
“Glad you’re an expert on stalkers and all—”
“You’renot an expert. You’re mister military gun-strapping, jerky-eating guy. With big muscles and stupid hair.”
“What is your problem? Did we not just say team?” He cracked his neck. “And what the hell is wrong with my hair?”
“I don’t know. The first part of my list, I hate. The second two just came out.”