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“Go home. Get some sleep. Stop worrying.”
“Okay. You call me if you need me. I mean it.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
“Night, Lex.”
After disconnecting from Wade, Lexie double checked the deadbolt and securely shut the window. She leaned against the door—the same door Nico had her pinned against minutes before. She gawked at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. What just happened? All this time she’d had Nico pegged for a nice, sweet guy. Dependable. Maybe a macho mean streak somewhere in there, but still the kind of man you’d be happy bringing home to your parents. But then he’d kissed her like that, and suddenly she’d been forced to reevaluate. Nice boys did not kiss like that. That was a bad boy kiss, and despite her better judgment, Lexie had loved every second of it. She could already hear Annie’s voice in her head—You little tramp!
But she also couldn’t help but feel afraid of it. She had too much to deal with, too much drama, too many scars. She didn’t want to drag Nico into all that. That’s why she’d pushed him away, and it’s why she’d be smart to break things off before they went any further. Yes, that’s exactly what she should do. The logical choice.
But why does it feel so wrong?
She sighed because she didn’t know.
Realizing she was mulling in circles, Lexie gathered herself with a breath and finally pushed away from the door. She made it a few steps before headlights shone through the window again.
Nico.
She waited until she heard his boots on the patio, chewing her lip in anxious anticipation, before flinging the door wide with a grin. “Forget something, Lieut—”
Lexie froze. Her jaw went slack.
No.
Not five minutes had passed since Nico drove away, which meant he’d been waiting for him to leave. Waiting to get her alone. She went over everything in her head in rapid speed, trying to figure out what he knew, what he might have seen from whatever creepy hiding place he’d sat in for god-only-knew how long. If he saw the kiss . . .
The air in her lungs suspended for long moments until her brain finally got the signal through to move. She reached for the door, hoping to slam it shut before he had a chance to speak. Whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to hear it. But she was too slow. Kyle’s hand shot out, blocking the latch and holding the door ajar while his foot slid into the gap at the bottom.
“Just—hold on! Give me a second.”
“What the hell do you want, Kyle?”
“Just to talk.”
“Yeah, right,” she huffed, pushing her full weight against the timber. “In the middle of the night?”
“Come on, Lex. I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“I’ve heard that before too. Let me guess, you haven’t had anything to drink tonight, either?”
He sighed. “I’ve had a few beers. That’s it, I swear.”
“Forget it. I don’t care. You’re not coming in.”
He could have if he wanted to. She knew it. So did he. But for some reason he seemed to be humoring her feeble attempt to out-strength him.
“I swear to god, if you keep this up, I’m getting a restraining order,” she cried, pushing for all she was worth. “I’ll go straight over Chief West’s head, you hear me? I’m sick of your bullshit—”
“I need to talk to you. It’s—it’s about Isabelle.”
Lexie faltered. “What about her?”
“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”
Ha. “Fuck off.”
“Lexie . . .” Another sigh. “I’m coming in.”
