Page 15

RICKY

“You gonna be alright?” Charlie, my partner, asks from the driver’s seat.

I shoot him a side-eye. “Do I have a choice?”

He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Not exactly.”

I return my focus to the dismal alley, specifically the car three spaces ahead. “Then why ask?”

Drenched in rain, Jackson leans on the hood of a rental and stares up at the second-story terrace windows.

My gaze follows his to Aurora, who’s sitting up in bed, bathed in the orange glow of the fireplace, lost in a monster romance novel—a gift I bought her to celebrate her modeling contract.

Her lips curve into a soft smile as she reads, and warmth blossoms in my chest.

She’s finally keeping food down, and she’s healthy enough for me to leave.

Just in time for her progress to be shattered by her ex.

“I’m your boyfriend. Your mental health is important to me.”

I scoff. “Speaking of which, Aurora wanted me to apologize to you.”

His brows furrow. “For what?”

I press my lips together to stifle my shit-eating grin. “For me seeing her naked.”

Aquamarine eyes widen, and his mouth pops open on a gasp. “You bastard.”

“She stripped in front of me. It was totally not my fault.”

“Fuck you. I hate you.”

“Blasphemy.”

Jackson rises to his full height and strides toward the building, drawing us back to the task at hand.

“He’s quite the stalker, isn’t he? I’m surprised he hasn’t figured you out.”

A wave of dread washes over me, erasing my cheerful mood, the happiness in my heart replaced by a lead weight.

Charlie glances over, then quickly away. “You need to shut that shit down. Now . It can’t happen, and you know it.”