Page 38 of The Confidant

But this level of intensity after one day together is a little concerning. If he has this many doubts from the start, is that a bad sign? Or is he honestly showing me that he doesn’t think he can do without me for so long?

It’s a lot to consider over one lunch.

“Which is why I’m about to scare you even more,” he sighs as if he’s resigned to this turning bad.

“I’m already freaky. I can handle it,” I try to tease him while my mind works over what might be under the surface of him.

He doesn’t smile. He looks grim, closing himself away from me.

“Will you download an app so I can see where you are?”

My head tilts, confusion taking over.

He’s scared I’m going to run while he’s gone. This is new for both of us, and if he feels anything like I do, him leaving is going to suck. I already miss him, and he hasn’t left yet.

That tempers a little of the wariness. I’m the same way. I just never would have thought about keeping tabs on him so openly. While I’m thinking, he’s still talking.

“I don’t think you’re going to cheat. I know that’s where you are with this,” he quickly explains. “I want to be able to look down and see you’re still there, even if you’re not in front of me. That I didn’t imagine you. I do better with visual confirmation than anything else. I can make up what you’re doing in my head when things get rough.”

My frown gets a little deeper. I’m not sure if I should fight this or not. I’m not a psychologist. Would it be better to give in? I don’t mind it. But should I? I raccoon-roll to test this out.

“You know where I’m at, Poe. Home, the shop, maybe the diner. That’s about it.”

“Places I can imaginewithoutyou in them,” he mutters with a genuinely tired sigh. He looks exhausted with himself. “My imagination is my worst enemy. I want a concrete solution that I won’t doubt. The dot means you’re there. I see it. I don’t want to drive you away by texting all the time. I already know I will. At least this way, I can pretend to be quiet about it.”

The junkyard dog is displaying his manners before he bites and locks down, never letting go. Asking instead of being sneaky about it.

“Now, now,” I protest with a raised brow. “I like to feel some affectionate attention. I don’t care if you overdo it.Itend to go overboard, too. I wouldn’t have a problem with telling you if you’re driving me crazy.”

“When you’re busy?” He raises a skeptical brow. “Will you take the gloves off to answer before I start spamming you?”

“Mais, no,” I scoff. “I’m as bad as you when I get focused.”

“Do you know how comforting it would be for me to look you up and see you’re at the shop? You aren’t ignoring me when I can see that you’re busy.”

My eyes narrow on him thoughtfully. Which way do I roll now?

“I know it’s insane. No one has to tell me that.”

My mind has gone in other directions. Something more positive than the negative way he’s presenting it.

“Are you talking about one that has alerts on it if there’s trouble, like SOS, or one that lets you know if there’s been an accident? That kind of thing?” That sounds better. It makes theI’m crazytalk take a backseat.

Keeping tabs to make sure I’m ok isn’t insane. People do it all the time. As a matter of fact, I should put Ash on one, so I know when he’s going to show up. I might have fewer heart attacks.

There’s also the fact that Poe is going to be who knows where, who knows when, and who knows how long. Maybe I need to see a little dot, too. Who knew a blip on a screen could put my mind at ease?

“Yes,” his brows furrow. “Why?”

“Show me,” I say, squeezing his hand and moving to sit next to him in his booth.

He looks surprised when I pull out my phone and start searching for apps that meet both our needs. The one he pulls up is too basic.

“Just like that?” His voice is soft as he watches my fingers move.

“You’re the one going out of state,” I remind him with a stern look. “Maybe I want to know what fancy restaurant you’re at. Or if you get kidnapped by some model and move to Vegas. I want to know where to send the hate mail. You won’t get away unscathed, yappy dog.”

“That’s never happening,” his lips turn up into a subtle smile.

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