Page 21 of Look My Way (Bloody Desires #1)

Liam

Daniel: Try not to stay out too late today and lock all the doors when you get home. Another body was found this morning. You can never be too careful.

My stomach sinks. That’s four this month, isn’t it?

They’re piling up at this rate, and the whole case has been weighing heavily on Daniel with him having to watch from the sidelines since it’s not his jurisdiction.

Turning on the TV, I flip over to one of the local news channels, and my mug clashes with my teeth as an unwanted chill runs through me.

It’s getting closer too. It won’t be long before Daniel and his team will have to be involved.

Or it might go higher than him before it can.

That’s if they can’t catch this monster soon.

My cup drops a little too hard onto the counter when they show a picture of the latest victim, who was found in a lake.

Red hair and blue eyes.

They all have those features in common. This person has a type he goes after, and Daniel wants me to be extra careful because I match it. They’re younger than me and don’t have glasses, but that doesn’t put me any more at ease.

There’s a serial killer out there. This is real life and not a movie or one of my books. I’ve been so fucking careless, going outside at night and . . . what if the man watching me wasn’t who I was hoping he was, but is actually—no. That wasn’t real.

But it was, and I can’t play pretend when people are being murdered and the person hasn’t been caught yet. He’s out there somewhere, but it doesn’t mean he’s been here. Oh, please say he hasn’t. My stomach tightens and I shut the TV off, needing to look somewhere else.

My attention flicks to the window and I close my eyes. I need to stop searching for him. Especially because I don’t know who “him” is. Except my heart practically beats his name.

Zavier. Zavier. Zavier.

It’s all in how he watches me. In the way he looks my way. Is it crazy that I invited my assumed stalker to the farmer’s market with me?

Probably, but I need him to be there. I don’t know why, but I do. It’s also nice to have someone who wants to be with me. And did I mention I need him. It doesn’t make sense, but it feels better that it doesn’t.

Daniel: I hope your silence is you napping and not that you’re ignoring me.

It’s been maybe a minute that I’ve gone without responding. He’s so impatient for a man who constantly keeps me waiting.

The ceramic clinks against the metal sink when I set my mug down, and grabbing a bowl, I fill it with Fruity Pebbles and milk. Lacking the energy to clean any more dirty dishes than I need to, I chose something easy that doesn’t require pans or a spatula.

I move around the kitchen slowly and with my muscles aching, then I sit back on the couch to eat instead of the uncomfortable hard chairs Daniel talked me into buying for my table out back.

It was supposed to be mine, but as I look around my house, so much of it is starting to look like someone else’s.

My movies still cover the shelves by the TV, and I have stones in random places like on the coffee table and entertainment center, though.

After I finish off what Daniel would argue is not breakfast, I hand wash the very few items in the sink, dry them, and put them back in the cabinet. My eyes keep going to the window. A blue bird flies by but nothing hides behind the shed.

It’s silly, but I go outside and check inside my plant’s pots. I need to water the plants anyway. He’ll be here in two hours. Why do I need to see his words when I can wait and hear them later?

I guess because it’d be nice to have the encouragement they give me to keep moving. To be myself and what I want.

My phone buzzes, and when I lift it from one of the end tables, the corners of my lips shift upward.

Unknown number: Looking forward to having you drag me around in the heat later.

Me: Ice cream is always an option for afterwards. A treat to help us both cool down.

Unknown number : Pack lots of cloth napkins so we can make sure you don’t leave with too much on your face.

I chuckle.

Me: You mean you want to be seen with me and my cloth napkins.

Unknown number: I want to be seen with you in whatever way I can, and I specifically prefer for others to see me use the ones with the ducks.

Another laugh slips from my lips. This is why I searched for those notes this morning. It’s like he knew I needed them.

Me: I’ll bring them along. How’s the book coming?

Unknown number: Which one? I have like five, remember? And that’s just the physical copies.

A fluttery feeling takes over my chest.

Me: Whichever one are you currently reading?

Unknown number: I’ve read all the ones you gave me and a few on the kindle app.

I smile so wide, I have to touch my lips to make sure it’s actually happening. It’s hard these days. Or it was.

Me: You’re a fast reader for someone who doesn’t read.

Unknown: Never said I didn’t read. Only that I didn’t have time. A lot of sleep was sacrificed.

Me: Well, we can both walk about half awake together. I didn’t get much the last few nights either.

Unknown: That’s no good. Maybe lots of sunshine will help.

Me: I’m sure it won’t hurt. I should work so I can finish this book.

Unknown : Get to it. You’ll feel a lot better once it’s done. That might even be what’s keeping you awake at night. It’ll be one less thing to worry about.

Me: You’re right. I’ll go and sit at my desk and see if the words come.

Unknown: They will when they’re ready. You got this, carino.

My heart jumps, and right when I think it isn’t possible, my smile grows bigger.

I walk to my office while reading over his message, not putting the phone down until I’m in my seat.

The tips of my fingers touch the keyboard, and the same way I’m looking forward to walking around downtown with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, so is Lex.

The words flow easily. Not everything should be jotted down straight from my head, but I go with the flow, not wanting to disrupt it.

One chapter is done within the hour, and then two more right before my alarm goes off reminding me to get ready for Zavier to arrive.

I’ve got only the epilogue left, and giving my characters their happy ending is my favorite part of the process.

After what I drag them through, they deserve it.

Satisfied with all I’ve accomplished, I save my work and change into a lighter shirt.

The heat from outside is seeping into my walls and bypassing my air conditioner, and a knock at the door catches me off guard as I’m running a comb through my hair.

My breathing is all over the place as I slip my glasses over my eyes.

I take a breath and straighten the collar on my white button down before going to greet my visitor.

Zavier is standing on the other side of the door wearing a black V-neck and jeans. The way they grip his thick thighs is sinful. Smiling, he lifts his hands in front of him.

“I’m a little early, but that’s better than being late, right?” He rolls his shoulders back. “Oh, and I got you these.”

A basket rests in his fingers, with pink tissue paper sticking out around a bundle of stones of various shapes and sizes. All with flat surfaces and perfect for painting on.

My breaths stutter. “These are for me?”

“Yeah. I don’t really know how farmer’s market hang outs are supposed to go, but I didn’t want to show up at your door empty-handed. I also thought maybe . . . you could, you know . . .” He shrugs nonchalantly . . . “Paint me one. My room could use a little color.”

My fingers collide with his as I take the gift from his hand, my skin feeling like it’s moving against his. Every part he touches comes alive. How is it that he feels so damn good? Is it because I can sense that he likes touching me too? His chest dips, eyes darkening, and he presses into me.

Does he know he does that? I brush my fingers over his, my heart wanting to escape my chest when his hand skirts up my wrist to stroke over my pulse point.

“Sure. I’d love to. Anything in particular you’d like?” My voice comes out huskier than intended.

“Surprise me.” He traces circles around my wrist and up my arm, stopping at my elbow.

My body is temporarily paralyzed, and I can’t move away from the door until he pulls his hand away. I tighten my grip around the small basket before it can slip through my fingers.

“I’ve never been given a stone bouquet before, but I guess I won’t need to worry about putting it in water before we go.

” I smile, finding a place in the kitchen to set my present.

I’ll move it to the room before Daniel notices it.

He doesn’t come into the kitchen for more than something to drink.

If he’s hungry, he’ll ask me to get it, and say it’s only because I know my house better than he does.

He’s been staying over for two years now, so I doubt that. I’ve been at his place less than he’s been at mine and know my way around every room. It’s smaller and he says he only keeps what he sees as practical in it. Is Zavier a tidy or messy person?

Something in between maybe? Will I get to see how he truly is during our movie night, or will he choose that one day to make the whole place spotless because I’m coming over.

I don’t imagine Zavier as being a person who hides who he is from the people he wants viewing him for who he truly is, and I think he wants me to.

That’s why I don’t think he could be some serial killer.

“Only flowers?” He stands beside me, his arm rubbing against mine.

“No. Not those either. It’s never been a big deal, though. I prefer to get plants that won’t die in a matter of days anyway. “

“You mean like your vegetables and fruit?” The wheels look like they’re turning a mile a minute in his head.

“Yeah. Exactly. But if you specifically see a lemon tree at your next victim’s house, I wouldn’t push it away if you showed up at my door with it.

” I wiggle my brows. That’s another thing, a killer wouldn’t admit out loud that he was one.

Not even in a joking tone. And at a house where a cop sleeps no less.

“Noted.” One side of his mouth turns up. “But why a lemon tree specifically?”

“I’ve been looking for one for a while and can never find one here.”

“Do they really grow lemons?”

I tug at the front of my hair, snorting. “Maybe one if I’m lucky. I think they have pretty leaves. They’re yellow, bright—”

“And add color like your stones. Got it.” The right side of his lips lifts to match the left, and he sweeps my hair out of my eyes after my second attempt gets me nowhere.

“Yeah, you’re getting it,” I say almost breathlessly. “We should go if we want to get good parking.” Pushing myself away from the counter, I walk around him and slip on my shoes.

“I’m ready when you are. We can take my truck. You never know if we’ll spot certain trees we might need room for.”

I breathe out a laugh and roll my eyes. “Yeah. It can’t hurt anything.”

“No. It can’t.” He moves closer, fingering my shirt collar. “This is a nice color on you.”

“Thanks.” I blush, ducking my head.

His fingers reach under my chin, and he forces my eyes to meet his.

“De nada, carino.”

My throat tickles. “De nada is ‘you’re welcome,’ right?

“Si. And carino means ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart.’”

“I knew that too.” I tug on my bottom lip with my teeth, and he brushes a thumb over where they pierce my skin.

“You’re bleeding. Do you not like when I call you that?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“I think you do. I know it’s not always easy for you to say how you feel about something outright. If you don’t want me to call you that anymore, blink your eyes twice. It’s okay if you don’t like it. You’re allowed not to like things.”

Warmth fills my chest, and I open my eyes wider, not blinking once. My eyes water and he laughs, wiping at the corners. “Good. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says back, grinning, and then offers me his arm.

I link mine in his, and when it’s time to separate to get in the car, I immediately miss the stability it offered.

He gets into the car first and I slide in beside him in the passenger seat, leaning more his way the further we drive away from the house.

After going through the fourth stop light, I’m leaning on him again, and I really feel like I could do anything. Because I can.

“ Even Daddy says so .” The words surface in my mind before I can stop them, and I repeat the one that felt the best to think.

Daddy.

I suck my teeth, closing my eyes as I sink my nails into the palm of my hands. Why did I have to give him those books? Why did I have to show him what I like watching when I’m alone in my office at night and I’m feeling rejected by my fiancé?

So far, he hasn’t discouraged me from wanting anything, but what if that’s where he draws the line? What if he’s like Daniel and only agreeable to certain things, mentioning it loudly when he doesn’t so I’ll pay attention to everything he hates about me.

“Doing okay over there?” He squeezes my hand, unbuckling his seat belt, and that’s when I realize we’re downtown. At some point while I was caught in my head, he managed to get us here, find a parking space, and study me long enough to spot something was wrong.

“Yeah.” I smile up at him, but it doesn’t come as easy as most of the others. “Was only thinking about what else I should get to make up for the lemon trees, in case there aren’t any. Hate for all that space to go to waste.” I tip my head toward the truck bed.

He laughs and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. Why I keep letting him, and treating it like it’s not a big deal, has to be the same reason I’m touching myself at night where I know he can see me.

And I can’t even give myself the answer to that either. Only one I have that works for all of the above is that no one should ever feel ashamed of what they want when it’s not hurting anyone.

So, I’m letting go and giving in, because this is the first time I feel safe enough to.