Page 49 of The Road to Ruined

"He has to want something else, too, Teagan. He wrote a love note on your arm."

I scoff before turning to face him, tracing the 'T' on his chest with my fingertips. "I think we're the only two people in the world who would think that's what that was."

"Maybe," he says. "Or maybe he just needs a sweet, soft kitten to curl up in his lap, too."

My heart sinks, thinking of Declan again. I picture myself melting into him, wearing just his t-shirt, on a hotel balcony inReno. I look down, squeezing my eyes shut, and try to push the image out of my mind.

"Yeah, I don't think that—" I start, but when I open my eyes, he's gone again. "…worked so well last time."

Sighing, I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I wring out my hair and then dry off, tying a towel around my body before stepping out into the main room.

The shades are drawn again, so that must mean he's awake. The room smells like coffee, too. I inhale deeply, scanning the area. Bone Saw is in the kitchen, his back facing me while he leans against the counter. He grabs a mug from in front of him and I freeze, watching his head tilt back slightly as he—I can only assume—drinks from it before setting it back down.

"Holy shit! You just drank coffee.I knew you had to be a coffee drinker."

He pulls the mask back down over his face and, without turning, shakes his head. "Teagan…"

I cross the kitchen and stop directly behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Do it again," I tell him. "Drink coffee with yourmouthlike a human. I promise I won't look."

"I thought we already sufficiently established that I have a mouth," he says. "I don't understand the fixation."

"Oral fixation is very common among us humans," I say.

"That's something entirely different, Teagan."

"Are you going to drink it or not?"

"No," he says. "Not in front of you."

He reaches into a cabinet just to his left, pulls out an identical coffee mug, and fills it before shrugging me off and walking toward the door.

"Do you have any almond milk?" I ask.

"What do you think?"

I think I'm in a multimillion-dollar home with no fucking food in it—that's what I think. I pick up the coffee mug from the counter and take a drink.

Bone Saw reappears with a paper bag that smells like eggs and sets it down on the counter.

"Is that food?!" I ask. "Where did it come from?"

"Not DoorDash," he says.

"Aww, is it some sort of hunger relief program? Feeding America: Creepy Off-Grid Masked Serial Killers Chapter?" I open one of the biodegradable plastic take-out containers. "Oh, sweet—burritos! That's nice of them."

I pick up half of the massive burrito and take a bite.

I notice Bone Saw facing the other way, his shoulders shaking with laughter again.

"You're laughing again, aren't you? Just go ahead and do it; it'll be less weird."

Eventually, he turns back and grabs the other container from the bag in one hand and the coffee in the other. "You should put some clothes on. I'm going upstairs."

"Can I see your room?" I ask.

"I don't have a room. There are three more bedrooms upstairs, but this—"

"This isn't a home, I know. You've said that already. Can I see it?"

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