Repeat - Kylie Scott Page 0,80
Clem. I’m fucking terrified about this idiot being out there gunning for you. What if I can’t stop him? You don’t want me treating you like glass and following you around all the time. But the thought that he could get to you when I’m not there . . . I can’t lose you again. I won’t.”
“Yeah, it frightens me too. But we can’t just stop living.”
Lips brush against my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss.
“I just feel jittery all the damn time,” I say. “On edge. It’s driving me nuts.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re the one good thing that’s come out of all of this.”
“Sorry I wasn’t ready to tell you I love you back yet.” His voice is low and telling. Like he too has all these feelings going on that he doesn’t know what to do with. Like there’s a burden in his heart, the same as mine. Perhaps I shouldn’t wish emotional turmoil on him, but it’s good not to feel alone.
“Love is complicated. Well, whatever this is, is complicated.”
“That it is,” he whispers. “But I’m here, Clem. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“Okay.” I relax against him, shutting my eyes to sleep. Honestly, it feels like a weight has lifted. Tonight, lying in Ed’s arms, I don’t think I’ll need a pill. Maybe talking things out isn’t so bad after all.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re a hard person to catch alone,” the voice comes from out of the darkness.
It’s some stupid hour of the morning. Two or so. And I’m standing out front of the apartment building beside the dogwood tree because Gordy needed to pee. Also, I did too, but I did my business in the bathroom as per human tradition.
I startle at the sound of the voice, keys already held in my fist with the ends pointing out between my fingers just in case. Eyes-throat-groin. Eyes-throat-groin. I almost blurt the words out, so strongly has Gavin welded them into my brain. “Who’s there?”
A shadowy figure wanders up the footpath toward me. Better lighting in this area would be really fucking helpful right about now.
“Clementine,” the voice drawls. Male.
I say nothing.
Finally, he’s close enough for me to make out his face. It’s Tim, the friendly neighborhood creeper. Great. His hands are in his pockets, a sly sort of smile on his face as he stands closer than necessary. “Out with the dog, huh?”
“Gordon. Yes.”
Gordy raises his head and wags his tail once, before going back to sniffing along the fence line.
“Haven’t had a chance to talk to you in ages. You’re always with your boyfriend.”
“Ed. Yes.”
“Guy acts like he’s your bodyguard or something.” Tim chuckles. “Like you need protecting.”
I can’t step back on account of the tree so I step to the side, putting some distance between us. Tim steps toward me, getting back in my personal space. All the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my shoulders tensing.
“Am I making you nervous?” he asks, still smiling.
“I don’t know. Does my dog make you nervous?” I bump Gordy’s butt with my knee, wishing he’d mount some kind of protective display. Growl even. But his tail just wags a little and he snuffles more deeply at the fence. Worst. Dog. Ever. “You’re out late.”
He just shrugs. Probably been out peeking through bedroom windows. Or riding public transport, standing too close to women so he can sniff their hair or something. Whiskey taints his breath. So not only is he gross in general, he’s probably drunk too. My luck just can’t get any better. And my fight or flight instinct is screaming at me to get away. Meanwhile, with me in only a small pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, the guy is eyeing my chest. Full on fucking ogling the outline of my breasts beneath the thin fabric. It’s so gross, the way he’s staring. I feel dirty, exposed, and I’m not doing a damn thing, but walking my dog. It’s all him, this disgusting horrible person. Amazing what he can achieve by doing so little. Just a few looks and a couple of words really. Shit.
“Gordy,” I say, voice trembling. Dammit. “Time to go in.”
Unfortunately, whatever has caught his canine fascination is far more interesting than me. The good boy does not come. Should have put the leash on him after all. Ed would give me such a lecture for yet again not maintaining strict doggy protocol.
“Clem, c’mon,” protests Tim. “I only just got here. Surely you can spare