A knock on the door startles me slightly, and I frown. Everyone cleared out of the communal area over an hour ago, and I assume Claire, Jess, and Thea are all deep into hopefully pleasant dreams.
Kellen, maybe?
I move to the door and open it without bothering to look through the peephole. No matter who’s on the other side, they’re friend and not foe.
To my surprise, it’s not Kellen standing there. It’s Jess.
Christ, all my resolve to try to keep her at arm’s length fractures as I take in her beauty. How in the hell does she make navy sweatpants and a long-sleeve T-shirt look so damn sexy?
“What’s up?” I ask, pulling the door open wider for her to enter.
She passes by, smelling like sweet flowers, and I close my eyes briefly to savor it. I commented on it once a few years ago, and she told me it was her favorite body lotion. I almost asked her the brand so I could buy it for her for Christmas or her birthday, but then decided I didn’t want to be thinking about her putting lotion on her body because that would lead my thoughts down a rabbit hole of desire that I had no business traversing.
“Can we talk?” she asks without looking back at me. She heads straight for the couch I just vacated.
That dreaded word… talk.
“I’m actually tired and heading to bed,” I say without closing the door.
She flips on the lamp and shoots me an exasperated look. “You’re a night owl like me, Dozer. Cut the shit. You’ve been avoiding me most of the night, and I really need you to tell me what the plan is that your team has come up with. I hate not knowing.”
I sigh far too audibly, in relief that she wants to talk about Borovsky and not about our feelings for each other. Jess tips her head in curiosity.
Waving it off, I move toward the couch. “Sorry… just got a lot of stuff running through my mind.”
She nods in understanding. “Who ever thought we’d be on the run for our lives, right?”
“Yeah, right.”
We both sit on the couch, opposite ends. She curls her legs under her—a flash of pretty coral-painted toes—and drapes an arm over the back to study me. “You look uptight.”
“We have a lunatic wanting to kill you. I am uptight.”
It’s something we might have laughed about, all things considered, but this shit is real and heavy.
She nods again, a grave expression on her face. “What plan did you come up with today?”
I’ve been waiting for this question, and I have the lie on my lips, ready to fly. I decided that I couldn’t tell her our plan just yet, because she will do everything in her power to stop it. She’d go so far as to put herself in danger to stop me from putting myself in danger, and while I’ve never lied to this woman in my life, I have to now.
“At this point, after talking to the law enforcement agencies involved, we think it’s best we just hunker down here to give them a chance to catch Borovsky.”
“Will they catch him?” she asks dubiously.
“They’ve got local police, FBI, and federal marshals on it,” I assure her.
Jess sighs, rests her head on her arm, and stares at me. “I guess we can’t do anything more.”
I don’t affirm that, because I don’t want to lie to her more than necessary. Instead, I ask, “How are you holding up? Your mom and Thea?”
“Mom’s fine,” she says with a soft smile. “You know she’s practically unflappable. Thea thinks this is just a fun adventure. We’ve kept it all from her, so she’s happily oblivious.”
“And you?” I ask, since she withheld that information.
“I’m good. I feel safe, but I also don’t want this to go on too long. I have a life back in Miami. A job and students depending on me.”
My gut twists at her surety that her life is in Miami. It’s another thing that separates us… distance. This could never work.
“We really need wine,” she says, lifting her head with a mischievous smile. “We always have our best couch talks with wine.”
I laugh, because that’s true. We’ve had so many over the years, I can’t begin to remember them all. “If I had wine, I’d offer you a glass. But this apartment is bare.”
“These are cool,” she says, glancing around the room. “That Kynan offers these accommodations to his employees. It’s certainly making the transition easier for Kellen.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask curiously, wondering just how well she’s gotten to know him tonight.
She nods, a fond shimmer in her eyes. “He’s still got his home back in California he’s trying to sell. His girlfriend is there with his dog, Bubba, and—”
“Bubba?” I ask with a laugh. “Isn’t his dog a K9 cop or something?”