Page 29 of As Long As You Kiss Me

“Yep,” Sully told her. “Jackson is my boyfriend now.” That ought to get the gossip mill churning.

“How marvelous! Did Aubrey know about this?”

“Yes, we told her,” Jackson said.

“And she didn’t tell me? Well, good for you two. I always love seeing two young people finding love.”

“Oh, we’re definitely in love.” Sully put her hand on his arm to emphasize her point.

“That’s just beautiful. If you ever decide to get married, I hope you invite me to the wedding.”

Way to jump to conclusions. But that was typical for Mrs. Wheaton. She always wanted to take things a step further than what they actually were, especially when it came to romance.

For the next several minutes, more cute little old ladies came up to them and commented on their relationship status. They were doing a great job of fooling everyone. But Sully couldn’t help the feeling inside her that wanted it all to be real.

Sully got homefrom church and went into the kitchen to fix some lunch. Aubrey was out to a Sunday lunch at a restaurant with her family, so she had the house all to herself. She warmed up a can of lentil soup, humming to herself as she stirred the pot. She kicked off her heels, leaving them next to the stove, and then ladled out some of the lentils into a bowl. She settled at the table and dug into her soup. It was warm and comforting. The house was so quiet she could hear the water dripping from the faucet in the kitchen sink.

It sure was lonely here. What was Jackson up to?

Why would she wonder that? She’d just said goodbye to him. Was she having withdrawals already?

She finished off the rest of her soup and then put the bowl in the sink to wash later. There was a pile of dishes in the sink left from dinner last night too. She was too tired from working all week to deal with it right now. Her bed was calling to her.

She went into her room, ready to crash, when she saw something out of place. There was a piece of paper on her pillow. What was that all about?

She opened the folded sheet of printer paper and stared at the typed note.

I want you back, and I will do anything to make sure that happens.

Sully’s hand shook, and she dropped it back where she found it. There was no name, but obviously Mason was the author. She spun around. Was he still here? And how had he gotten in? Had she forgotten to lock the door after she went to church? She thought back to that moment. She’d locked it and gone out to the car, but then she’d realized she’d forgotten her phone, so she had to go back in the apartment to get it. She must have forgotten to lock the door her second time leaving the home. It was stupid because she didn’t really even need her phone in church. She was just so addicted to the thing. Heaven forbid she miss a notification.

She dialed Jackson’s number and put her phone to her ear. “Jackson. I’m freaking out.” Her hands were shaking again.

His voice turned serious. “What’s going on?”

“I was going into my room to take a nap, and someone left a creepy note on my pillow. I’m pretty sure it was Mason.” She glanced over to her pillow and shuddered.

“What?” Jackson sounded panicked. “Are you sure? What makes you think it was him?”

“Because of what it says.” She read the note out loud to him.

“Yeah. That was Mason. Can you recognize his handwriting?”

She shook her head, but it wasn’t like he could see her. So she said, “No. It’s typed.”

“That means he was being smart about this.” Jackson’s voice sounded grim.

“Maybe I should call the police.” She couldn’t stop looking at the creepy note that still rested on her pillow.

“You can, but there’s no way to prove it was Mason.”

“Oh.” Her voice fell. “You’re right. Police want proof. Something we don’t have.” It felt like Mason was always one step ahead of her. It had been that way during their marriage, and even though she’d divorced him, he was still showing up, making her life miserable.

“Do you think he’s still hanging around?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know. But I’m super scared.” Her voice shook.

She heard some rustling on the other end of the line.

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