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“Stalking and not even getting paid for it—that’s not like you,” Marco snickers. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

“Not if you keep your mouth shut,” I remind him.

“I don’t mean that kind of trouble,” he insists. “I mean, my baby brother might actually want to settle down.”

I shake my head. “Ethan won’t even admit to himself how he feels.”

“This is a closeted guy? Damn. I wouldn’t think you’d give him the time of day once you figured that out.”

I pull down the street we’re keeping an eye on. The guard car is about a half mile back from us, keeping its distance to not be suspicious.

“Like I said, I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me fucking nuts. He kissed me a couple weeks ago. I thought maybe after that he’d come running, but…nothing.”

“So stop being a little bitch and go to him,” Marco suggests.

“Wow, thanks. I never thought of that,” I mock him.

He shrugs as I park. “Maybe if you stopped just stalking him and actually asked him out directly, it’d go better.”

I grumble and grab the pizza from him. “Just let me eat.”

Marco doesn’t bother me about Ethan again, but only because we’re too busy stuffing our faces.

Nothing much is happening at the warehouse. A couple guys come in, a couple more come out. Nothing alarming happens for hours.

“I think we’re here for nothing,” I tell Marco.

Marco shakes his head. “Not for nothing. Even if they don’t do anything suspicious, that shows us they aren’t up to something.”

“What’s an ass-backward way of lookin’ at it, but I guess you’re right,” I say. I try to get another piece of pizza out of the box. It’s cold and kind of hard, but still edible. However, when I pull it out of the box most of the pepperoni slides off into my lap.

“Fuck!” I sigh and brush it off onto the floorboards before tossing the slice back. “Don’t need another right now, anyway.”

As I wipe my hands off on a napkin and look back up at the steering wheel, I see someone walking toward us.

I’m not positive that they’re walking toward the car until the guy walking takes his sunglasses off and practically looks straight into my eyes through the tinted windshield. I know he can’t really see me, but I can sure as hell see him.

“Shit,” I mumble, and start the car.

“Calm down or we’ll look even more suspicious,” Marco insists.

I scoff. “Let’s just get out of there.”

He grabs my wrist and keeps me from pulling away.

I’m not sure why, but what’s done is done, and the guy stops at the window. I curse under my breath again, this time including Marco in the mix of expletives.

“Hey, buddy,” I say with a fake smile pulling at my lips as I roll down the window. “We in your spot?”

“This is yours,” the guy says calmly.

He hands me an envelope, similar to the one I gave Callum weeks before.

“From Callum?” I ask, giving up the ruse.

He shrugs. “You’ll know,” he says, and then turns around and walks away.

“Learn some fucking etiquette,” I spit at him, then roll the window up.