“Let me help.”
For a second, she just watches me.
Something soft moving through her expression.
Then she nods.
“Okay.”
We clean together.
Pack up supplies.
Stack chairs.
Lock up the cashbox.
Turn off lights.
By the time we're finished, the hall is empty.
It’s just us.
The silence feels different now.
Comfortable.
Easy.
Like we've known each other for longer than a couple weeks.
Like this is normal.
Maybe it could be.
Now, that is a very dangerous thought.
See, I’m not usually the guy who has time to call numbers out at community Bingo.
I work for an elite security firm.
I get called out on assignments halfway around the world with no notice.
I can’t do whatever this make-believe relationship is—not for real, anyway.
And that really fucking sucks.
So I push the thought away for now.
And I focus on the now.
Being here.
With her.
“You finished?”
“Yep. Just need to set the alarm and lock the door,” she murmurs, her big emerald eyes seem to glow in the dimly lit corridor.