Page 43 of Text Appeal

Without missing a beat, he says, “Women with blue hair.”

“We are fearsome. Though writers in general are way scarier.”

“Why is that?”

“Research. We know shit.” I turn to face him and lean my shoulder against the wall. “For instance, are you aware that an exposed human body can be reduced to bone in as little as ten days?”

“No,” he says slowly.

“Deterioration is up to four times faster in the water. Butyou must remember to weigh it down. Bodies don’t float at first, but gases from deterioration build up inside and they rise to the surface. Would you like to hear about dissolving bodies with acid and other solvents?”

“Not really.” His forehead is a mess of furrows. “You’re terrifying. Why do you know these things? Are you a serial killer?”

“A character in one of my books was a true crime aficionado.”

He shakes his head in wonder. “Thank you for trusting me with your story about the storm. Your secret’s safe with me, Riley. But I mean it when I say you better not be a serial killer. I’ll be so pissed if you’re lying to me.”

“Like I even have the energy for that sort of thing.”

Standing side by side with him at the window watching the storm makes me feel safer. My childhood fears are pacified. For now. Though we’ll see how long it lasts.

“You’re staring at my left nipple,” he says out of nowhere.

“Sorry. Would you prefer I stared at the right?”

He shrugs. “I guess either is fine when you put it like that.”

Lightning flashes and I flinch. That was a short reprieve.

“You are safe, Riley. I promise.”

“I want to believe you,” I say. “But my lizard brain says I should probably go hide under the bed.”

“Is there room under there for two?”

My smile fails in all the ways. What I need is something to take my mind off everything. We didn’t talk much earlier. We drank wine, ate pho, and watched the first three episodes ofArcane. A favorite of mine. How he could have missed such a great series is a mystery. But a fine time was had by all. Or it seemed to be. It’s hard to tell with his trick of withdrawing intohimself and disappearing in plain sight. He seems much more open and present now.

Which makes it an opportune moment to pry. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“You kept frowning at Nicole’s choice of songs at the party. Were you not vibing with them? I mean, you obviously weren’t. But what exactly was that about if you don’t mind me asking?”

His eyebrows descend, and his jaw tightens.

I am the ultimate mood killer. Just watch me go. “Tell me and I’ll let you have half of the bed. Or you can keep sleeping on the floor. Your choice.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I am curious too. Take it as a compliment.”

He sighs. “The floor is really hard, and I am actually quite delicate.”

“I’ve heard that about you. I believe fragile was the word they used.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird, us sharing a bed?”

“No.” I shrug. “I mean, nothing’s going to happen. We’re just friends.”

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