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I stare at my phone again, willing it to light up with his name. The rational part of my brain keeps insisting his meeting is probably running late. He didn’t know exactly how long it would be, just said ‘lunch time’ and that he’d call me when he’s on his way home, but it feels like it should be over by now.

It’s not like Logan to forget to check in. Especially not now, not with everything going on. I know he’s as worried about me as I am about him.

His being at the office today has made me even more painfully aware of how much our dynamic has shifted. We used to go days—hell, even a whole week, Friday to Friday—without seeing each other, and it never felt like this.

Now it feels like someone’s ripped a piece of my heart out, and I’m just waiting for it to return. I’ve never missed anyone like this. Never felt this kind of ache. And yeah, it’s probably a little crazy missing him this much after a few hours apart, but I can’t stop the emotions running through me.

Maybe if the stakes didn’t feel so high, I wouldn’t be this anxious. But the apartment is too quiet and empty without him, and all I want is for him to come home now.

“I’ll check in,” I mutter to myself, grabbing my phone and typing out a quick text.

Ryder:

Hey, everything okay? Meeting running long?

I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the send button. He should’ve called by now, so I hit send, then toss the phone onto the couch like it might explode—anything to keep myself from staring at it, waiting for those three little dots to appear.

It’s not lost on me that when the emails started, I thought I could handle this situation on my own, and now I can’t stand being alone for even a few hours.

I honestly thought it would be no big deal and that I was being overly dramatic by involving Logan. But, like always, he didn’t act like it was an inconvenience at all; he just stepped right in and held me together when I didn't know how to hold myself. We’ve always been good at showing up for each other. That part hasn’t changed.

But it feels different now because I’minlove with him. Not anI care about youlove orbest friendlove. It’s deeper. It’s visceral and all-consuming and constant. Now it feels like something fundamental in me has shifted, and I can’t imagine a world where he’s not right here next to me, touching me, kissing me, calming me with nothing more than a look, and I miss that today.

Logan isn’t just my best friend. Or my boyfriend. Or a part of my life.

He’s my whole world.

My safe place, my constant, my home.

My everything.

My person.

I hear my phone buzz, and I grab it at lightning speed, but it’s just a regular, non-stalkery email. I let out a shaky breath and remind myself that he will call when he’s done.

Sitting here alternating between staring at the door and my phone isn’t going to help, though, so I force myself to get up and try to focus on work. Taking my phone with me, I head into the closet but keep the door open so I can hear Logan coming home. There’s no way I’m in the right headspace to record anything, but I can at least prep and take notes. I grab the book I’ve been reading all morning, which is the next one on my schedule to narrate.

About ten minutes later, I hear the front door close, and the relief that rushes through me is instant. It feels like for the first time all day, I can finally breathe again knowing Logan’s back. I drop the book and nearly trip over my own feet running out of the closet, heart pounding as I hurry to the main living area, ready to collapse in his arms. The stress of being apart was too much.

I turn the corner, already halfway through a breath meant to say ‘I missed you so much, never leave me again,’ but the second my eyes land on the person near the door, the words die in my throat.

It feels like the floor drops out from under me.

My heart stops, and panic fills my lungs because it’s Kyle. Not Logan. Kyle is here, standing inside Logan’s apartment.

He’s wearing a dark zip-up hoodie, and he looks...unhinged. Hair messy, eyes wild, and there’s a smear of blood on his face that makes my stomach twist.

And he’s smiling expectantly at me.

“Hey, Ryder,” he says, far more calmly than he looks. “I thought we could finally talk,” he says, stepping closer to me. “Just the two of us.”

My body goes ice cold, and I step back until I hit the wall behind me.

Fuck, where is Logan? And why the fuck is Kyle here instead of him?

Panic coils in my chest, but I need to tamp it down. I need to breathe and get him the fuck out of here.

“Leave,” I snap, finally finding my voice. “Get the fuck out!”