Page 68 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

I wondered what they looked like when he laughed properly. Not the tiny smile he'd accidentally let escape earlier. A real laugh. One that reached those tired blue eyes and stayed there. The thought lingered far longer than it should have. The coffee finished brewing. I handed him one of the mugs.

"No sugar?" he asked.

"You look like someone who drinks coffee because it functions as fuel rather than because it tastes nice."

He stared at the mug.

"That's strangely accurate."

"I know."

"You know?"

"I guessed."

He took a careful sip. I watched him over the rim of my own mug. I wanted to be that mug. It’s official I am jealous over a mug. The warmth seeped into my palms, but it wasn't the coffee making my pulse feel oddly uneven. He caught me looking. I didn't look away.

"I've got something on my face?"

"No."

"Then why are you staring?"

I tipped my head.

"I'm observing."

"Observing."

"Mhm."

"That sounds suspicious."

"It sounds like curiosity."

"Is there a difference?"

"A massive one."

"And what's that?"

"Curiosity asks questions."

I took another sip.

"Suspicion already thinks it knows the answer."

For the first time since opening the door, he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he studied me with that same unreadable expression. Yeah honey, keep your eyes on me.

"You always talk this much?"

"Usually more."

"I was afraid of that."

"I can stop."

"I didn't say I wanted you to."