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But I promised him I’d tell him, so I do.

“I got another email,” I ignore his question and say instead.

The shift in Logan’s voice is immediate. “What do you mean, another? Like from the same person? I thought you blocked them.”

“I did. It’s a different email address, but it’s all letters and numbers like last time. It’s gotta be the same person from Saturday, though. It had a similar feel, but…” I hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It feels a little more personal, though. Invasive, maybe. Creepy.”

“Invasive, how? What’s it say?” Logan’s voice drops lower. I wonder if he’s surrounded by his coworkers, and I realize maybe I should’ve texted him first.

I don’t want to paraphrase, so I read it to him. There’s no way to dress it up to make it feel less creepy, and when I finish, the silence on the other end of the line is deafening.

“Send it to me. Right now, Ryder,” his tone is firm. He doesn’t usually get demanding like this, and it throws me for a second, but I can tell he’s concerned about what I just told him.

I do as he asks and silently wait for him to reply, until I hear a muttered curse.

“Alright, I’m coming over now. Don’t do anything, just wait for me to get there.”

“Logan—”

“Nope, don’t argue. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and make sure the doors are locked.”

My heart rate picks up at that thought, but I’m positive I locked the door. To make sure, though, I get up to double-check anyway while he’s still on the phone with me.

“Doors locked,” I confirm. I’m positive the back door is locked because it always is. I haven’t gone out that door in a while, but I check anyway. And yep, it’s locked.

“I’m going to go talk to my boss, then I’ll leave,” he says.

I let out a little laugh because the last thing I need is him telling his boss that his best friend received a semi-strange email, so he needs the rest of the day off.

“Logan, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Nope,” he snaps. Then I hear him let out a deep breath, “Just let me do this, alright? It’s not like I’ll be able to focus on work the rest of the day anyway. And you know I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you just so I could work a full eight-hour day.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll see you when you get here,” I concede, rubbing a hand over my beard.

I think that’ll be the end of our conversation, but Logan’s next words make my chest ache for a different reason.

“You’re my best friend, Ry. I love you, you know I’d do anything for you, right?”

I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear that at this moment. Selfishly, I’m glad he’s coming over because I don’t want to be in my house all alone, but I do feel a smidge ofguilt that he’s going to take the afternoon off. I probably should’ve waited to call him about this at the end of the day.

“Same, Lo. I love you, too. Thanks for this, I’ll see you soon.”

“No problem.”

We hang up, and I decide that instead of spiraling, I should probably be productive. I go around the house to make sure the windows are locked, just in case. I make it through almost all of them when I hear knocking at my front door.

I walk over to it and look through the peephole to see Logan standing there. When I pull the door open, he has a disheveled look on his face, and his dirty blonde hair is a mess. He looks like he’s run his fingers through it at least a dozen times on the drive over.

“Hey, you didn’t need to come, Loge,” I say, stepping back to let him inside. He doesn’t respond; he just walks into the house and heads straight toward my bedroom.

I’m unsure what’s happening right now, so I shut and lock the door behind him before following him.

“Uh, what’s going on?” I question when I see him in my closet.

“Pack a bag,” he barks without looking back at me as he pulls one out of my closet.

“What? Why?”