On the Run (Whispering Key #2) - May Archer Page 0,102

friend said. “Like, Rollins? Wait, what?”

Aron swallowed and whispered hotly, “But I’m not out in the bodybuilding world. They can’t run a story with my name that ties me to Muscle Men! That wouldn’t be…”

I gave him a look that said he was a hypocrite and an asshole.

“…cool,” he finished weakly. He ran a hand through his hair, which was a poor choice considering how much product was in it. “Shit. Tommy, mi… uh.” He cleared his throat and held out his hands in a placating way. “There’s no need for any of that. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

I tilted my head to one side. “Not my call, Aron, but I don’t know why they’d have any interest in helping you out unless you managed to get BlazeNewz to stop showing that picture, and I’m pretty sure that could only happen if you admitted you staged it—”

“Y-yeah,” he said quickly. “Okay. I’ll say I photoshopped it.”

“Really?” I slathered my voice with a thick layer of disbelief. “Even if BlazeNewz makes you give their money back?”

“Ah, damn.” Aron shut his eyes. “Yeah.”

I tried not to show that I was doing an internal victory dance. “Well, I’m not sure if anyone will listen to me, since I’m just the eyewitness to the crime you perpetrated, but I’ll mention your intention to the, um… crack legal team.” I shrugged. “We’ll see what they say.” I smiled at his friends. “You all have a lovely night.”

“Aron? Dude! The fuck did you do?” I heard the guys mutter as I walked around them and continued down the street.

Halfway down the block, my hands started to shake. I needed Beale so, so, so much. I wanted to tell him the whole story. I could almost picture his smile.

Franz stood outside my building and opened the door when I got close. “Your ice cream order arrived, sir.”

“Oh.” I gave him a wobbly smile. “Great. Thank you.” I was pretty sure I’d die if I tried to eat it now. I was at the stage of emotionality where even ice cream couldn’t help me, and I was pretty sure I’d never been here before.

I let myself into my quiet apartment, locked the door behind me, and leaned back against it. The lights of the city outside my window sparkled through my dark apartment, promising all sorts of excitement and adventure. But the adventure I’d committed myself to was way scarier, and I was so excited, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep.

I shucked my beautiful shoes and shirt and skintight jeans, set my phone to charge in the living room, and despite the early hour, I lay down in bed, because tomorrow would be a long—

The weight hit my chest, knocking the breath from my body, and then a noise halfway between a chainsaw purr and a smoker’s cough filled the apartment.

“No,” I said clearly. “No, I am hallucinating. I have consumed too much Peanut Butter Party in a short amount of time. And the cholesterol has caused me to have a lucid dream. Or an un-lucid dream. Holy Kacey Musgraves, I have invented un-lucid dreaming.”

“For a man so obsessed with potential murder,” came the world’s warmest, best, most comforting voice from mere inches away on the other side of my bed, “it was extremely easy to stroll into your apartment with a rolling suitcase and a cat carrier. I met the ice cream delivery guy in the lobby, and he let me in.”

“Please be real,” I whispered, and Marjorie dug her claws into my flesh in a really kind and comforting way, to let me know she was really, actually there, before hopping off the bed and gallomphing across the hardwood floors.

I snickered.

Beale rolled against me a second later, a gorgeous shape in the darkness, and braced his hand in the bed on my opposite side, holding himself over me. He bent his head to my neck and… sniffed? Then his whole upper body sagged against me wearily.

“I didn’t actually mean to be asleep when you came in,” he told my collarbone. “But I didn’t know how late you might be, and I heard your mattress was ultra-plush—”

I snorted.

“And it’s just been a really long day.” He sighed, his warm breath brushing my skin. “It’s been a really long week, actually. The longest of my life, and it’s all my fault. I came to tell you that. And apologize.”

I twined my arms around his neck and let my fingers sift through his long, shaggy