Page 85 of Nyx

My eyes feel like sandpaper as I wait for the second cup of coffee to brew. If he is out there, as he said he would be, then the least I can do is give him a cup as a thank you.

I juggle my purse and two cups of coffee after making sure there was no one in my line of sight through the peephole before unlocking my door, only to open it an inch at the same time the door across from me opens. I close my door, watching as the person leaves their apartment, eyes locked on my door, letting me know they noticed I was going to step out and decided not to.

"Weirdo," the woman mutters as she locks her door and walks away.

I wait a few minutes, making sure she's gone before trying again.

I always give myself extra time to get to work in case something delays me, but I was twenty minutes late yesterday morning after my freak-out, and despite always staying late, I still feel guilty about it.

I make it out of my apartment, releasing a breath of relief when I see him sitting on his bike.

I walk up, keeping my eyes peeled for any threats as I close the distance between us.

"I'm tired," I say, offering the cup to him. "But at least I got a couple of hours of sleep. You must be exhausted."

"Thank you," he says, taking the cup from my hands, not taking the opportunity to complain about his lack of sleep.

It's a new lack of reaction for me. Almost anyone would, at minimum, agree to being tired after a long night of no sleep, but he doesn't say a word.

"I relayed everything that happened yesterday to Max. He's the IT guy at Cerberus. Remember him from your interview?"

I nod.

"He was able to do some research on your playlist."

I don't question how the guy got that information because he's talented enough to have known I was using a fake name and identification.

"Okay," I say warily.

"He was able to determine that someone logged into your account and added the song to your playlist. It was done remotely. They didn’t have access to your apartment, and from what Max can tell, he's pretty confident that whoever it might be may not even know you're in Farmington."

"I've had that account for a long time," I explain. "I use the free version, so there's no current information tied to it."

"He doesn't know who added the songs."

"It had to have been Graham," I mutter, my eyes instinctively looking over my shoulder as if saying his name out loud will conjure him before me.

"I don't know if you've made it through your entire playlist—"

"I haven't listened to it at all since yesterday morning," I assure him. "I rode home in silence last night."

"He added more than one song," he continues, and for a second I find myself watching his mouth as he speaks.

"I'll just delete the app altogether. I don't even want to know what songs were added."

He dips his head as if he understands, or maybe he was going to suggest it himself.

"I didn't know until he told me, but Max said Cerberus has some sort of family plan for that app, and he can get you a link to join their plan."

I narrow my eyes at him. Some people are just kind and very sweet, but history has told me that there's a reason people do things. More often than not, they do it because it benefits them in some way.

"No pressure," he adds at my hesitation. "I just know that music can be grounding and helpful for some people. It would suck to remove another thing from your life just because your ex is a piece... a bad person."

I grin at his slip. "I'll consider it."

"Any stops before work today?"

"None," I tell him. "You going to follow me?"