Page 51 of Can't Stop Watching

"Don't tell him about me." The words feel strange in my mouth—like I'm negotiating with a hostage taker, except she doesn't know she's the hostage. "I can be your insurance policy. Be smart about it."

She glances over her shoulder, those collegiate eyes suddenly showing the first flicker of actual intelligence I've seen from her. Survival instinct kicking in, maybe. The human animal's most reliable feature—we sense danger right before walking into it.

"Why would I need insurance?" But her voice has lost its edge. She knows. Deep down, she fucking knows what kind of man Langford is.

"Because monsters wear Italian suits too."

Sarah turns fully now, doubt softening the hard lines of her face. For a moment, I see the girl beneath the act—young, ambitious, out of her depth.

"I won't tell him about you," she finally says, "as long as you leave me alone."

Fair enough. She needs to believe it's her choice, her game. I nod. "Deal."

She walks away, back straight, footsteps just a little faster than before. I've planted the seed of doubt, and that's sometimes all you need. Doubt is survival's first cousin.

Back in my car, I watch her disappear around the corner. The whole interaction leaves a taste like copper pennies in my mouth. We're all so fucking fragile, constructing elaborate fortresses of self-deception just to make it through the day. Sarah thinks she's using Langford, while he's just adding her to his collection of pretty, disposable things.

I start the engine, wondering how many other Sarahs are out there, believing they're the exception to ancient, bloody rules.

17

LILA

Igulp down fresh air as I exit the subway station near my apartment. My phone weighs heavy in my bag, Dane's unanswered message practically burning a hole through the leather. For some reason, I felt strong urge to reach out to him after getting out of my interview, but I managed to wait and thoroughly think about my decision.

As I walk I fish out my phone, reading his text again.

Dane: Good morning. What did you decide about me?

Straight to the point. No games. No "hey beautiful" or other bullshit lines I've heard a million times.

I stop at the corner and lean against the building's stone facade, thumb hovering over the screen.

Brian's weird vibe did something unexpected to me. It made Dane's intensity feel... safer somehow. At least with Dane, there's no calculation in his gaze, just that thrilling intensity. He doesn't hide behind perfect smiles and subtle innuendos.

Okay, Here it goes.

Lila: Just crushed an interview where a creepy investor made me feel like I needed a shower afterward. So naturally, I'm thinking about giving you another chance.

I hit send before I can overthink it. Then immediately panic.

Shit, maybe that sounds harsher than I meant it to.

My phone buzzes almost instantly.

Dane: I'm honored to be your post-creep palate cleanser.

I snort, drawing looks from passing people. A second message follows.

Dane: For what it's worth, I'm sorry about the other night. I get intense. Working on that.

I start walking again, smiling down at my phone like an idiot.

Lila: You? Intense? I hadn't noticed.

Dane: Says the woman who brings backup to first dates.

Lila: Hey, Tessa volunteered. Standard girl code protocols.