Page 183 of The Night Shift
He shakes his head. “I live here,” he says. “My family owns the place.” He sets the food on the counter and starts telling me how they come and stay every few months and how it’s like a second home. Rambling on and on about how he’s currently here for a boys’ trip because his mom died last week. Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t even know this weirdo’s name.I don’t care about your dead mother, Stephen, I just want my bread and cheese to go!
“Want me to make it for you?” he asks suddenly.
“Huh?”
He smiles and turns on the stove, buttering the bread.
“You really don’t have to.” Translation: Just give me the fucking bread before I beat you to death with it.
“Nah, pretty girl like you shouldn’t be getting her hands dirty.” The smell of crisping bread and melting cheese fills the air, making my stomach clench tighter.
“So, what brings you here?” He goes on with the fucking small talk.
I could strangle him. “To the kitchen? I’m hungry and it’s late.”
He laughs. “I meant, here. Cooperstown.”
“It’s my sister's wedding.”
“Oh, that's nice. A weekend getaway for you and your boyfriend, then.”
“Excuse me?”
“The guy you checked in with. He’s your boyfriend, right?”
The mere insinuation that Theo Carter is my boyfriend makes me want to laugh. “He’s my colleague,” I say, pressing my nails into my palm, willing the heat in my cheeks to fade.
I check my phone.12:10 a.m.Theo still hasn’t responded to my frat boy text. Strange. It’s not like him to ignore me. A flicker of unease creeps in. Has something happened? Did he slip in the shower? Crack his skull open on the tiles? The image flashes, sharp and sudden — him lying on the bathroom tiles, blood pooling around his head, seeping across white porcelain. My stomach twists.
A plate slides in front of me, breaking the thought in half. “Here you go. Best grilled cheese you’ll ever have.”
I highly doubt that. I take a bite. The cheese is hot and gooey. Not the best I’ve ever had, but edible. “It’s okay.”
He watches me too closely. I take another bite.
“Oh, you’ve got something there.” He gestures to my chin. Before I can react, his thumb swipes across my skin.
I jerk back.
He doesn’t move away. Instead, he studies me, lips twitching into something that isn’t quite a smirk. Then, too fast, he leans in to kiss me.
I shove him hard. “What the hell?!”
He stumbles but laughs. “Relax. You don’t have to play hard to get.”
Ice floods my veins. “I’m not playing anything.”
He steps toward me. “There’s no need to be shy.”
“I’m going to say this one last time for your own good. Back.Off.”
He does not. “You just said you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“So?”
“So, it’s all good.”
He tries again. I push him off harder. His smile disappears. “I made you a sandwich.”
