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“I’ve met her a few times,” he replies. “And her husband, Ian. They live in Sleepy Hollow, and the team out there helped themout when Rose was in trouble. So she’s been a big supporter of Blade and Arrow ever since.”

Continuing down the hallway, Erik gestures at each door as we pass it. “Dante and Sarah live here. This is Jade and Niall’s apartment. And little Declan, of course. Then we have Xavier and Lucy’s apartment. Theyjusthad their baby a few weeks ago. Rhiannon and her fiancé, Hawk, are in this apartment. And Matt and Isla live here with their little girl, Dove.”

While Erik talks about his teammates and friends, he visibly softens. An affectionate smile tugs at his lips. It’s obvious how much he cares about them. How important they are to him.

Out of the blue, I wonder,Does he have a girlfriend he looks at the same way? A fiancée? A wife?

But I would have known if he was married, wouldn’t I? He wouldn’t have invited me into his cabin to start with if he’s in a relationship, right? I know ifIwere dating Erik, I wouldn’t like it if he invited a strange woman in to talk. And later, made promises to her about sandwiches and cookies.

Not that I’m the jealous type. I’m not. But if Erik were mine, I wouldn’t like it.

“Do you live with someone?” I blurt out.

Before I even finish speaking, I wish I could find a convenient hole and throw myself into it. What am I doing quizzing Erik about his living situation? His relationship status? I have no right?—

“It’s just me,” he answers. “Not for lack of everyone trying. Lucy keeps suggesting these online dating apps, and—” His mouth clamps shut. “Anyway. I live alone.” He angles his chin at the next door coming up. “Right here. So if you need anything, don’t worry about stopping by any time.”

Just after his door, Erik slows to a stop and gestures at the one across from it. “This is the client apartment.” He enters a complicated code into the keypad beside it and the doorknobmakes a little click. Then he pushes open the door. “The code is on a notepad in the kitchen,” he adds, “but if you ever forget it, just come get one of us. We’ll let you in.”

We walk into a very cute apartment with a large couch that practically calls to me to collapse onto it. The open living space is decorated in shades of blue and gray, and there’s a cozy scent in the air that reminds me of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls. Twin bookshelves flank an electric fireplace with a TV mounted above it. Beyond the entertainment area, I can see a small kitchen with stainless steel appliances and gleaming white countertops. Near the sink stands a coffee maker that rivals any I’ve seen in a gourmet coffee shop.

Erik sniffs. Then he grins. “Jade and her air fresheners. She usually gets the apartment ready whenever we have someone coming to stay. And she loves to make sure it always smells nice in here.”

“It does,” I agree. And despite having forced down some food on the plane, my stomach makes a quiet rumble.

“Are you hungry?” Erik shuts the door behind us and walks to the kitchen. Once he reaches the fridge, he opens it to reveal stacks of casserole dishes and enough food to last me for weeks. “Looks like Sarah stopped by. She’s an incredible cook. She and Dante both are. We try to convince them to make dinner for all of us at least once a month.”

Before I can answer, he stifles a yawn. A shaft of guilt spears into me. While I got at least a few hours of sleep last night, I know he didn’t sleep at all. So he’sgotto be exhausted.

“If you want to eat,” he says, “I’m sure we can find something in here to heat up. I think I see enchiladas in here, and some kind of soup. Or—” He leans down to look more closely. “There’s stuff for sandwiches, or burgers…”

Selfishly, I want to take Erik up on his offer. Despite my exhaustion, I want to fuss in the kitchen putting a meal togetherwith him. Sit across from him at the little dining table and talk about anything that doesn’t have to do with the island. Hear about how he joined Blade and Arrow. Talk about where he goes hiking around here. Get to know him better, like we talked about doing before.

But itwouldbe selfish. I’m sure Erik wants some time to himself. Despite how brave he was out there, he’s got to be struggling with everything that happened, just like me. And he talked about how meditation used to help with his PTSD, so he might want to go home and work through the bad memories that way. Not by being stuck here, babysitting me.

So I force a smile and say, “Oh, no. I’m not really hungry right now. I think I’m just going to take a shower and go to bed.”

Tiny lines etch across his forehead. He shuts the refrigerator door and faces me. “Are you sure, Tate? Because I don’t mind staying for a while.”

I almost cave. Almost ask him to stay.

But then I think about everything Erik’s been through. How he deserves to have some time to deal with it on his own. How, just as he promised, I’m off the island. Safe.

“I’m sure,” I tell him, working to sound as convincing as possible. With a smile that feels fake, I add, “It’s okay for you to go back to your apartment. Really. I’ll be fine.”

CHAPTER 8

TATUM

I’m not fine.

Not even close to it.

The first hour alone in the apartment was okay. I checked out all the rooms, took a steaming hot shower, and looked through all the supplies thoughtfully left for me, since I obviously don’t have anything here of my own. Someone—one of the women who lives here, I’m guessing—left a selection of clothes in my size, along with an assortment of toiletries and makeup and even a gift basket filled with aromatherapy candles and herbal teas.

So that was nice. And it made me even more curious to meet everyone.

But once I settled into bed with a mug of peppermint tea and one of the books I found on the shelves in the living room, that’s when I started to feel significantly less than fine.