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True dat.
I pushed the front door to Fuzzy’s open, which weighed more than I did, and felt my phone vibrate once in my hand, indicating that Knight had left a voicemail. I stared at it as I leaned against the brick windowsill, debating whether to press Play or Delete. I usually deleted them so fast; you would think I was deactivating a bomb. But I was feeling especially needy.
As my thumb hovered over the Play button, I heard the sound of a motorcycle engine revving across the street. I gasped and looked up, a strangled scream caught in my terror-stricken throat, as a middle-aged man with a potbelly pulled out of a parking spot on an old Harley Fat Boy. My eyes scanned the sidewalks for any signs of a psychopathic ex-Marine in biker gear, but the only guys I could see were drunken frat boys with their polo shirts tucked into their khaki shorts.
You’re okay.
He’s not here.
You’re totally safe.
He’s not here.
But, evidently, I didn’t feel totally safe because, when I looked down at my phone, I realized I was holding my can of pepper spray in my opposite hand.
Delete.
I had just tossed everything back into my purse and gotten my breathing somewhat back to normal when the door next to me swung open.
A faux-hawked, tattooed, fruity drink–making Zach waltzed out, wearing a megawatt smile. “Happy birthday, killer.”
Killer.That was appropriate, considering my mood.
“Thanks.” I pulled my pack of cigarettes out of my bag.
The spark from Zach’s lighter greeted me the second I placed one between my lips. Giving him a half-smile, I dipped the end of my Camel into the flame.
“So, that’s the guy, huh?” Zach nodded toward the front door as I exhaled.
“What guy?”
“The gay guy who invites you over to watch movies.”
I snorted the rest of the smoke out my nostrils like a dragon. “Yep. That’s him. Turns out, he’s not gay after all.”
Zach shrugged. “You win. Serial killer it is.”
I laughed, just a little. It felt good.
“Speaking of murderers, your girl in there is gonna strangle a regular any day now.”
“Probably.” I smirked. “Let me know if y’all need help burying the body.”
“No offense, but you don’t look like you’d be much help.” The yellow streetlights lining the sidewalk brought out the gold flecks in Zach’s eyes as they slid up and down my body.
I blushed, taking another drag from my cigarette to hide my swoon. “What I lack in brute strength, I make up for in leadership skills.” I exhaled. “I can supervise like a motherfucker.”
Sticking his cigarette between his teeth, he extended a thick, tattooed hand in my direction. “Fine. You’re hired.”
I slipped my perma-cold palm into his with a smile. “Emergency Body Burial Supervisor BB, reporting for duty.”
Zach held my hand a second or two longer than a guy who was just a friend should, and I hated the thrill it gave me. I hated how desperate for attention I was. I hated that my own boyfriend didn’t look at me or touch me like Zach the bartender just had.
Finally releasing my hand, Zach sighed and flicked his cigarette into the street. “Well, I better get back in there. You good?”
I nodded and held up what was left of my Camel. “Almost done.”
The second the door shut behind him, I blew out a shaky breath, hoping all my guilt would blow away with it.
