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I nudge his knee with mine, not breaking eye contact. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re my person, Ryder. This is what we do.” He smiles, and I try to bring the conversation back to more playful territory without beingthatplayful since I have no idea what this means for us. “Besides, you don’t really have a choice. You’re stuck with me. Rule number one, remember?”

When the first email came, I had a gut feeling somethingwasn’t right, but I tried not to overreact. I hoped they wouldn’t send more emails, that it was an odd one-off thing, but now I know this is just the beginning of something bigger we’ll have to face together. This person is here, watching, and they wanted us to know that.

“Do you think they’re done? Whoever this is?” Ryder asks, his voice low as his mind circles back to the heaviness of the situation.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. But I do know whoever this creep is will have to go through me first, and it seems like they’re not my biggest fan in the first place because I have what they want.

He turns his head toward me, eyes meeting mine with something more vulnerable than I’m used to seeing there. “Do you think they followed us here?”

Fuck, I hate this.

I hate how unsure he looks. How afraid he sounds. He has every right to be, of course, but it still cuts deep. The thought that there was a chance someone followed us here had crossed my mind earlier, after the email, but I wasn’t going to voice it. I didn’t want to add any additional stress to what he’s already feeling. At this moment, he doesn’t need more theories or fears to be voiced; he needs comfort. He needs me to be strong for both of us so he can break.

“I don’t know,” I say again. “But we’re going to do everything we can to shut them out of your life. Maybe if we keep the curtains closed, you don’t respond, and we don’t go out, they’ll lose interest. And I’ll be here, Ry. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. I promise.”

I squeeze his hand and get up to check every curtain to make sure they’re all drawn tight. If that sick bastard is out there, I don’t want them to see a goddamn thing.

When I finish, I look at Ryder as he stands up. “I’m calling it a night,” he says quietly. “Come on—come to bed with me. I don’t want to go alone.” Any thought of doing anything else completely vanishes as I follow him down the hall.

We brush our teeth, strip down to our underwear, and climb into bed. I pull him to me like I did last night, burying my face in his neck. His skin is warm, and the way his arms wrap around me makes this the only place I ever want to be.

“I love you, Ry,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his throat. It’s not sexual, just comforting.

“I love you too, Loge,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my head.

Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

Because there is no me without him.

10

RYDER

The worst part about being an adult is that the world doesn’t care if your life is falling apart.

Deadlines don’t pause just because your life has been hijacked by a psycho. Emails don’t stop flooding your inbox because someone is sending you cryptic messages that leave a phantom itch under your skin and make you want to completely erase your online identity. Clients still have launch dates set in stone and, rightfully, need their deliverables on time. The grind doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath.

It’s fucking exhausting being a person sometimes.

We’ve spent the last two days holed up in Logan’s apartment, and while no new emails have come through, it’s still the only thing I can think about. Every time I step into the closet to work, headphones on, mic in front of me, my thoughts spiral. I’m paranoid to the point of second-guessing every sound I hear because that creep made itknownthey’re watching. I’ve never struggled to record like this before. Usually, I can lose myself in the story, but now I have to actively convince myself I can do this at all.

Logan’s been hovering in the background, offering coffee, shoulder rubs, and his general presence like a security blanket. He doesn’t say much about the stalker, but I catch him glancing at my phone every time it buzzes, watching me for any sign of a negative reaction.

I’m sure he’s falling behind on work, too, but once again, he hasn’t complained or said anything. His boss told him there’s no problem with him working from home as long as he gets everything done, so I know how important it is for him to stay focused.

That’s exactly what I need to do, too.

I need to make some real progress on my to-do list before I lose another day with absolutely nothing to show for it. I’m still making my way through the hockey romance, and while it’s the kind of book that usually makes me smile while I read, I’m struggling with it. It’s hard to read something light and funny out loud for an audience when it feels like the world is crumbling around me.

The thought makes my stomach twist.

These creepy emails about how much this person loves my voice is going to be the reason I lose contracts because I can’t manage to pull it together to do my job. That’s what pisses me off the most. Not just the fear, but the way it’s derailing everything I’ve worked so hard to build.

I drop down into my chair, dragging my hands down my face. The closet isn’t as soundproof as my setup at home, of course, but it’ll do. Logan even helped me shove pillows into the corners the other day to help muffle the echo.

A knock at the door makes me jump, and I loathe that everyday things are causing such visceral reactions.

“Yeah?” I call out.