Page 67 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

Another.

"No..."

The third. Inside sat two dark ceramic mugs.

"There we are."

Elias raised an eyebrow.

"Lucky guess?"

"I've got the same layout."

I lifted the mug.

"These cottages are basically copy-pasted."

"...Right."

Inside my head, Frank cleared his throat.

“Move your mugs when you get home.”

Gerald nodded solemnly.

“Immediately.”

“Today.”

“Before you forget again.”

I smiled sweetly while setting the mugs on the counter.

"I'll make the coffee."

Elias leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

"I don't remember agreeing to this."

"You didn't but you looked like you needed saving."

"From what?"

"Terrible coffee."

For the first time… He laughed. Only once. Only quietly but it was enough. Frank looked at Gerald.

"We're in trouble."

"I know."

The coffee machine hummed softly between them, filling the quiet with something other than the sound of their breathing. I smiled to myself. People hated silence. They rushed to fill it with weather reports, complaints about traffic, or awkward questions about hobbies they'd never remember the answers to.

Elias didn't. He wore silence comfortably. Like an old leather jacket. It suited him. I leaned against the counter while the coffee dripped into the mugs, stealing another glance in his direction.

He wasn't watching the coffee. He was watching me. Not in the romantic sort of way. More like he was trying to solve a puzzle that kept changing shape every time he thought he'd figured out a corner. It should have made me uncomfortable.

Instead… Warmth curled lazily through my stomach, my nipples hardened, under his stare. My thoughts running back to this morning wondering if I wore a padded bra today. I clenched my thighs, my cheeks feeling warm. His attention settled on me like sunlight through a window. There was something unfair about the way his eyes held people. Steady. Unhurried. The kind of eyes that didn't miss much.