Page 24

He levels me with a look that says,this should be obvious.“Because you’re coming to my place. For at least a few days, so pack what you need.”

I let out a short laugh, but it feels hollow. I don’t want to be alone right now, but I also don’t want to impose on Logan’s life over two odd emails.

“Logan, I’m fine. I don’t need to?—”

“Well, I don’t like it, Ry.” He crosses his arms and tosses the bag on the bed. “Can you do this for me? It’ll make me feel better knowing you’re not here all alone. Come to my apartment while we figure this out. Please?”

Part of me wants to push back, but the way he’s looking at me and the way he said ‘please’ makes me cave. If he gets sick of me, he’ll tell me, although that’s never happened before. I’ll just need to continue to tamp down my newfound feelings for him while I’m sleeping in his bed indefinitely.

Easy, right?

I give him a nod and try to keep my thoughts PG. Now is not the time to think about him rubbing his ass against my dick while we spoon, or the little kiss he placed on my hand while he was wrapped in my arms.

Think about the email.

“Alright, grab whatever you need then. I’ll tell my boss I need to work from home the rest of the week, too. Whoever this creep is, they’re already feeling too comfortable with the words they’re using, and I’m not gonna leave you alone to deal with it.”

He disappears into the bathroom and comes back out with my toothbrush and some toiletries, and I can’t help but smile at that.

“You do know I already have a toothbrush at your place, right?”

“Whatever, it’s already packed now,” he shrugs and keeps moving through the room.

It didn't take long for us to pack everything I needed, including all my recording equipment, my laptop, and a few extras Logan insisted on bringing.

We both drive separately back to Logan’s apartment, andthe second we get there, he grabs some of my stuff and leads us inside. As soon as we’re in, he locks the deadbolt and starts checking all the windows and balcony door, methodically moving through each one to make sure we’re locked in. Even though we have no idea who this person is or if they even know where we live. I’m not going to argue, though. I also want to feel safe.

As I start unpacking some of my stuff, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I hesitate before picking it up, bracing myself for the worst because there’s another email notification staring back at me.

I already know I’m not going to like whatever I see, it’s a too-strong gut feeling.

When I click on the icon, it’s exactly what I was dreading. The email address is slightly different again, but it’s the subject line that makes my skin crawl.

Subject:Why’d you leave?

I feel light-headed and dizzy, like I can’t breathe. My chest feels tight as I try to suck air in through short, shallow bursts. I press a hand to my sternum to alleviate some of the pressure, but it does nothing to help.

“Ryder?” Logan’s voice cuts through the haze. “What is it?”

He comes over, grabbing my hands and pulling me down onto the couch next to him. He keeps his hand in mine, but it’s not helping. My throat feels too tight, the panic is hitting me so hard I feel like I might choke on it because someone iswatchingme.

They knew I left.

They werethere.

At my house.

While I was recording.

The booth doesn’t have windows, but what if they were alreadyinsidemy house?

I was away all weekend, and I don’t have cameras at my house.

God, what type of home owner doesn’t have fucking cameras!?

Then my mind snags on a question that makes me physically sick…

Did they follow us here?