“Yep, I do,” I quip, like this is all water under the bridge. “But in the effort of fairness, I’ve had more time to process than you.”
“How big of you.” The words are dry, that hint of Southern growing more pronounced.
“You should be thanking me for making this so easy for you.” I’m good at giving speeches, and I don’t pause to give him a chance to respond. “Trust me, everything will be fine. On Saturday, you stay on your side of the yard, and I’ll stay on mine. Before you know it, you’ll forget all about the motel room, and I’ll just be that hot girl from work you think about in the shower.”
He laughs like he can’t help himself. “You cannot possibly believe Saturday will go smoothly.”
“What could go wrong? I’m going to eat, drink, and get to know the neighbors. I’ll be so busy mingling you won’t even know I’m there. Unless you think you’ll be unable to ignore me, in which case, is there anything I can do to facilitate your self-control?”
“I can ignore you just fine.”
“Great, it’s settled, then.” My voice is so bright and cheery, I believe it. “I look forward to our very normal, platonic future.”
“Me too. I’m sure in our normal, platonic future, I won’t think about how I tied you up with the lamp cord, shoved your panties into your mouth, and fucked you until you were a needy mess and, best of all, quiet.”
He hangs up, denying me a response.
I throw my phone. It bounces across the bed.
I pick up a pillow, put it over my mouth, and scream.
Charlie
The following morning, I open my front door to let my best friend Mitch Riley into my house. “I appreciate you coming.”
A state attorney, he’s dressed in a custom navy suit that has his trust fund written all over it. He holds up a white bag. “I brought breakfast.”
“Thanks.” I walk toward my kitchen with him following close on my heels.
Last night, after the phone call, I’d decided I needed to confide in someone to get my head on straight. I can’t think with her distracting me and driving me crazy. I need a plan for Ryder’s questions, and the only thing that fills my mind is the truth.
I pull down two cups from the cabinet and grab the pot of coffee I made. As we take a seat at my kitchen table, I pour us each a cup.
Mitch wraps his fingers around the mug, grinning. “I assume this has something to do with Ryder’s sister stalking you through the streets of Revival.”
I groan, dragging my hands through my hair before taking a seat. “It’s not even eight.”
“Sophie, Darcy, and Maddie were on FaceTime last night, so when you asked me to come over for breakfast, my only surprise was that you actually wanted to talk.” He chuckles while he unpacks two breakfast sandwiches, sliding one across the table to me.
I make no move to take it. “You didn’t tell Maddie you were coming, right?”
I trust Mitch, but Sophie is his wife’s best friend.
“I told her I had an early meeting.”
“Good.” The word sounds official, like I’m talking to one of my deputies. “I don’t want to infringe on the marital bond, so if you feel like you must talk to her, tell me now, and I’ll leave you out of it.”
His brows wing up. “That bad?”
I nod. There’s no sugarcoating it.
“I’m guessing you know exactly why Jessica Moore was following you.”
I meet his shrewd, amber-eyed gaze. “That depends on what you feel compelled to tell your wife.”
“Don’t insult me, asshole.”
Some of my tension eases. Mitch and I met when we were fifteen and I moved in with my aunt and uncle across the street in the rich Chicago suburb where the Rileys lived. Coming from the backwoods of North Carolina, I was lucky Mitch was the first person I met.