Page 131 of Things We Hide from the Light

It wasn’t cowardly of me to time my own comings and goings to make sure we didn’t run into each other on the stairs. I was not a big, giant chicken for tiptoeing past his door. For once,Iwas making the safe, smart decision.

I straightened and took a long hit from my water bottle, pretending I couldn’t physically feel Nash’s attention on me.

Just like I chose to ignore the low-level buzz of awareness that sparked in my veins when I knew he was next door, only one wall away.

Well, I still found myself straining to hear the sound of his shower.

But I was only human, okay?

I was committed to the new and improved, healthier, slightly more boring but definitely in a better head space Lina. I’d cut back on caffeine and alcohol, upped my vegetables, and was on a four-day meditation streak. My PVCs had stopped for the most part. And now there was nothing else distracting me from the investigation.

I’d left three more messages on Grim’s weird answering service but had yet to get a response.

Thankfully, my research team had come through for me. Morgan managed to work her nerd magic and identify the two henchmen from Tina’s vague descriptions. Face Tattoo Guy was Stewie Crabb, a two-time felon with a dagger tattooed under his left eye. Chubby Goatee was Wendell Baker, a beefy white guy with a shaved head and a Fu Manchu mustache that connected to a goatee. He had only done time once for an assault charge.

Both had been in Anthony Hugo’s employ since they were teenagers thanks to their friendship with Duncan. Morgan hadn’t had any luck identifying the mysterious Burner Phone Guy yet, but at least I had leads on Crabb and Baker.

I’d set aside my property search in favor of surveillance. Unfortunately for me, watching low-level criminal henchmen who knew the feds were probably keeping an eye on them mostly involved sitting in a lot of strip club parking lots.

“Nice job,” Stef wheezed. His T-shirt was soaked from neck to hem and his black hair was spiked down the middle in a sweaty faux hawk.

“Thanks,” I said, sucking down more water. “I keep waiting for it to get easier, but every time I still feel like I’m going to die.”

Stef grunted.

“So are you ever going to tell me how your date went Sunday after you abandoned me with the tipsy twins?”

He closed his eyes and doused himself with water, but I still caught the curve of his lips.

“It was…fine.”

“Fine?” I repeated.

“Nice.” The curve was becoming more pronounced despite his best efforts. “I didn’t have a horrible time.”

I elbowed him. “You liiiiiike him. You wanna make ooooout with him.”

“Don’t be a third grader.”

“Did you end up in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g?” I teased.

“He did the hand on the lower back thing when we walked into the restaurant.”

“That’s hot.”

“So hot,” he said, taking a swig of water. The ghost of a smile still played on his mouth.

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Maybe,” he said smugly.

“So that little barstool therapy session was actually meant for you, not me.”

Stef shot the scowling police chief a glance. “I figured one of us had to man up and take the leap.”

“Excuse me,jerk. The man pulled me over, yelled at me, and gave me a speeding ticket fordoing my job.”

“I’m sure you were driving the speed limit.”