Interlude (The Snow & Winter Collection #1) - C.S. Poe Page 0,23

maroon tree or something,” Millett continued, “but he kept typing moron, which I kept pointing out, and then he got frustrated and all-caps told me to fuck off.”

I shook my head and said around a growing smile, “That sounds about right.”

Millett looked at the barista again. “I don’t know why he won’t use voice-to-text.”

“He doesn’t trust it.”

Millett snorted. “He’s such an asshole.”

“Sometimes,” I said with a chuckle.

“I won’t tell him you said that.” Millett collected his cup when the barista called out Neil! and slapped it down on the countertop. He stared at the spelling of his name for a moment, frowned, then started to turn toward the door without another word.

“Neil?” I echoed.

Millett stumbled a step, looked at me, and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I never properly thanked you.”

“For what?” he asked cautiously.

“For… being there for Sebastian. I don’t mean when he was in the hospital over the summer. He’s been happy, having you as a friend again.”

Millett frowned and cast his dark eyes to his expensive shoes. He looked like he wanted to be absolutely anywhere but here. But after a minute—and it was a minute—he raised his head and said, “You and I aren’t always going to agree or see eye-to-eye. But you’re part of the package now, so we’ll both do our best.”

I nodded again.

“And please don’t do something stupid like invite me over for dinner.”

“I won’t.”

Millett gripped his cup so tight, the lid looked about ready to pop off. “I love Sebastian. He’s my only friend.” He held his hand out, shook mine, and said thickly, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Millett left it at that, turned, and walked out the door.

“Sorry for that wait on the cold brew, Calvin,” Camille said suddenly, bursting the little bubble that had seemed to envelop me.

“Oh. No problem,” I said. I flashed her a quick, automatic smile and was tucking my phone away in order to carry both coffees and the brownie when it buzzed in my hand.

Sebastian Snow.

I opened the text to see that he’d answered my question.

Nothing. Just thinking of you.

Someone’s in the Wall

—

Before The Mystery of the Bones

POV: Sebastian Snow—

I sat at the table-for-two in the front room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and a T-shirt, eating Lucky Charms and scowling at my phone’s screen. “I’m cold,” I stated when Calvin entered from the kitchen.

“Probably because it’s November and you’re in your skivvies.”

I looked up. “Do you recall the circumstances of our meeting?”

Calvin set his thermos on the table. “I woke up one day and you were in my bed,” he answered, knotting the tie around his neck. “Thought it was a bit strange, but you were cute, so I let it slide.”

“I’m serious.”

“Well, what kind of question is that, baby?”

“I think there’s someone in the wall.”

Calvin said nothing as he adjusted his shoulder holster, picked up his suit coat from the back of the chair opposite me, and pulled it on. He then walked to the coatrack beside the door, collected his winter jacket, and returned to kiss me goodbye. “I’m going to go to work now.”

“Calvin.”

“There’s nothing in the walls, Sebastian.”

“I heard it last night—behind the bed. It woke me up.”

“It was probably a rat.”

“It was way bigger—”

“Call the super today and have him schedule an exterminator.” Calvin kissed me again. “Have a good day.”

“If it turns out that Fortunato is dead in our walls, I will never stop saying I told you so,” I called after him.

Calvin opened the front door, looked over his shoulder, and said, “If one of our neighbors pulls a Tell-Tale Heart—”

“Cask of Amontillado.”

“—I’ll let you spank me.”

My eyebrows crept to my hairline. “I don’t need a reason to spank you.”

Calvin shut the door.

I glanced at Dillon, who cocked his head to one side. “Well, I don’t,” I reiterated before standing and collecting the bowl of soggy cereal. “I just prefer the action in reverse. Why am I saying this to a dog.”

I left the bowl in the kitchen sink, went upstairs, and got dressed for a day of errands and chores that absolutely did not involve a mysterious thing in the wall. I tugged my arms through a long-sleeved thermal, pulled it over my head, and put on a clean pair of jeans. I went to the nightstand, grabbed my wallet and keys, then put a knee on the mattress and leaned over the headboard. I couldn’t see any sort of hole or break in the drywall that’d suggest something had been trying to escape last night. Even though