I squinted at him. “Are you like… a groupie? Or something?”
“Wow. Absolutely not. I am so not a groupie. Are you being offensive? Because I think you’re being offensive. First, I come in here and you automatically assume I’m going to murder you, which, do I even need to tell you how racist that is?”
“I’m not racist—”
“And now you’re accusing me of stalking your brother.”
“How did you know where we live?”
Corey sighed. “I followed him home yesterday.”
“You were saying about stalking accusations?”
“Okay. Point to you. But I swear that’s not what I’m here for.”
“Maybe you should quickly explain why you’re here before I call my husband to tell him I’m being accosted by my little brother’s stalker.”
He looked startled. “Husband?”
I glared at him. “You have a problem with that? Yes, husband. And he’s big and strong and vascular, and he will totally kick your—”
“Trust me. I have no problem with that whatsoever. Is that him with you in the picture on the wall? Holy hell. Way to land that one. Talk about a DILF—”
“Corey.”
“Right. Sorry. Look. I’m doing this because I think it’s the right thing to do, okay? Just… don’t tell your brother I was here. I don’t want to get more involved than I already am.”
“Okay,” I said. Then I sneezed again. “Gross.”
“Ugh,” Corey said. “I wish I hadn’t just seen that.”
“Eh. If it makes you feel better, I wish you hadn’t either.”
“I would get you a tissue, but I’ll be honest here. I don’t want to come any closer.”
“It’s fine. I got plenty.”
“Maybe I should come back later.”
I blew my nose before I looked blearily back at him. “It doesn’t get much better than this. Spit it out.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and he looked nervous about standing in front of me. I didn’t know what was wrong, but it couldn’t have been anything good. I almost didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
I remembered what he’d said before. “Why can’t the Kid know you were here?”
“The Kid?”
“A nickname
—it doesn’t matter.”
He shrugged. “I don’t—look. I’m here because I want to do the right thing, okay? And I told myself that maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was just… seeing things. But then I couldn’t stop thinking what if it was something? And I just couldn’t get it out of my head. Because if it is something, then it’s not good. And as much as I hate going behind another person’s back, sometimes it’s the right thing to do.”
“Going behind his back,” I said slowly. “By… coming here?”
He nodded, head jerking up and down. He bit his bottom lip, looking down at the floor.
I felt clammy, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with my cold. “What is it? Is he okay?”