Page 51 of Hold Your Breath
Lou nodded. “Do you think we could talk to Ian now? He might have an idea what it is. Plus, I’d kind of like to give him a heads-up about this—do you think that’s wrong? Would I be aiding and abetting?”
When Callum just grunted, staring at the whiteboard, she turned to face him.
“Was that a ‘yes’ grunt or a ‘no’ grunt?”
“That was a ‘let’s keep our mouths closed for the time being’ grunt.”
Hergrunt was unhappy.
“If the MC did kill HDG,” Callum said with more patience than condescension, “do you want to be the one who screws up the investigation?”
“No,” she agreed reluctantly. “I just don’t want to screw over Ian. He doesn’t seem like a killer.”
“No, but one of his MC brothers might be.”
She shot him a glare.
“What?”
“I hate it when you out-logic me.”
He grinned. “You’re tired. Why don’t you go to bed? The whiteboard will still be here in the morning.”
Her stomach dropped with nerves. “Um…so where am I sleeping? I mean, the couch is just fine. It’s a lot more comfortable than my couch, so I could easily sleep here if that’s where you want to put me. Or anywhere is okay, actually—”
“Lou.” He cut off her babbling. “Upstairs.”
Relieved that he’d just made the decision without any awkward conversation—not including her nervous monologue—she headed for the spiral stairs. The loft covered half of the lower level, looking over his living room. Except for a walk-in closet on one side and a bathroom on the other, the bedroom took up the entire space.
“My bed is even bigger than yours,” Callum murmured close to her ear, making her jump. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her up the stairs.
“Um… I can see that.” Flustered, she hurried into the bathroom, more because she wanted to hide than because she actually needed to use the facilities. After completing her nightly bathroom routine, though, she felt calmer, ready to face Callum and his very large bed.
He wasn’t upstairs, which made it easier. She crawled under the covers, turning from one side to the other, unable to settle. It had been easier the night before, when pure exhaustion had won over awkwardness. Forcing herself to lie still on her left side, she closed her eyes.
Her brain was whirring so loudly that she missed Callum’s reentry. When the bed sank on one side, her eyes snapped open, and she flew to a seated position, staring at Callum, who was sitting on the edge of the bed in just a pair of shorts. Her gaze landed on his pecs, and she was incapable of yanking her eyes away.God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, stomach tightening. Even seeing him as often as she had recently, sometimes his physical perfection just knocked the breath out of her.
“Sorry,” she said, settling back with a false air of calmness when she finally forced herself to look at his face. “I didn’t hear you come in, so you just startled me a little.”
He smirked, so she was pretty sure he saw through her facade of nonchalance. Raising his arms over his head, Callum stretched. Lou’s eyes bulged when she saw the play of muscles in his back. The man seriously deserved his own calendar. As he twisted around to slide under the covers, she snapped her eyes closed and then turned on her side again, facing away from him. Spending time—especially seminaked time—with Callum was a bad, bad idea. Before, she could only imagine what his muscles looked like shifting under his skin. She hadn’t even known until recently that hehaddimples. Now, these details had implanted themselves into her daydreams, turning a simple crush into something so much more.
“’Night, Lou.”
“’Night.”
It took a long time for her to fall asleep, her body thrumming from Callum’s proximity and her mind churning with thoughts of waterlogged bodies and faceless stalkers. But his steady breathing filled the room, allowing her muscles to finally relax.
Callum was there, so she was safe.
* * *
All the time.He paced a path between the trees, snow crunching beneath his boots. She was with the asshole all the fucking time! His fingers tightened around the diver’s knife, pressing an imprint of the handle into his palm. He needed to get her alone, and then he could show her exactly how he felt about faithless whores.
The wind picked up a notch, and he tipped his head back, wanting to shout at it to shut up. The need for silence was grinding on his nerves. He shouldn’t be the one skulking in the trees, freezing. He should be in her cabin, in her bed, and the guy she was screwing shouldn’t exist at all.
He smiled bitterly. He could take care of that.
In a lull between gusts, a silence fell. His head turned as he eyed the surrounding trees. It was too quiet now. There was a rustle of dead vegetation, and he eased closer to a pine tree, his gaze searching for the source of the sound. Nothing moved, nothing even breathed, but he knew someone was there. Someone was always there.
