Page 13 of Words We Didn't Say

I kissed Eden’s shoulder, blinked watery eyes into her hair, and let the sweet tremors against my hand distract me until I could swallow all the emotion somewhere safe.

We weren’t ready for those words yet.

Soon.

When I’d made it.

When she had a reason to say them back.

3

She didn’t say, “Please choose me.”

Eden

Hit play on theevil genius theme song.

This was my best scheme yet.

My sneakers squeaked on the marble floor as I exited the elevator. Those shoes were the shit, glittery gold designer kicks perfect for scurrying around the offices of Worley and Stone after dark.

But no beady little lawyer eyes would spy my shoes—or me. Every office, every desk was empty, probably abandoned hours ago for Friday night drinks and weekend plans.

I seesawed to a stop.

Orabandonedlike a creepy warehouse in those horror movies where the killer was waiting…just around the corner…ready to pounce.

My heart bumped faster.

Was this really my best scheme ever?

I glanced at the brown paper bag clutched in my fist and smiled.

Yeah.Hellyeah.

Delivering Zach his favourite takeout, sharing half an hour, sure, some people might take something so simple for granted. It was a small gesture, but another way of showing Zach I supported him chasing his dreams. We were doing it together…even if some nights I’d never felt more alone. A moment like this was worth pushing past silly phobias. The dark was no match for me.

I squared my shoulders and focused on the city lights.

Proud but adorably humble, Zach had mentioned he’d scored prime real estate in the firm and could look over the whole city from his desk. Those same lights flickered in the sleeping offices at the end of the corridor.

Thenever-endingcorridor.

My eyes darted everywhere. Why was this floorso dark?Who turned out all the lights? A prickle of sweat dribbled down my back. Why was itso hot?My fingers trembled to open another button on the cotton blouse clawing at my skin.

I was never making it out of the building alive.

I plastered myself against a glass wall and sank to the floor.

Takeout, safe. Handbag, open. Phone, already calling for backup via video chat.

Yvette’s grinning face bounced onto the screen. “Deenie!” She slurped a sip of her cocktail, swaying to the music thumping in the background.

I scrunched my eyebrows. “Where are you?”

“El Diablo Cantina. And may I just say tonight’s patronage is above average.” She cackled but suddenly stopped and leant closer to the screen, squinting. “Where the hell are you?”

“Losing my shit at Zach’s work.”

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