Page 21 of Recklessly Yours

As far as my parents went? My mom would worry enough for the two of us, and I didn’t handle that kind of thing well. Ashley was the mom whisperer, not me. I never truly knew what to say or do.

“That’s what I thought.”

“So, what? You’re going to sleep on my couch every night?”

“Yeah. Unless…” He side-eyed me. “You could stay at my place. I have a guest room and security cameras.”

With a huff, I shook my head. Of course he had security cameras. Never in my life had I thought about needingsomething like that. We lived in a small town, for Christ’s sake. We rarely saw more than a little shoplifting from the corner store or the occasional drunk driver or domestic abuse situation.

With my head pressed against the seat, I tipped my face up and closed my eyes. All I wanted was to go to bed. If he wanted to spend the night on my couch, then more power to him. We could work through the logistics tomorrow. Maybe in the light of day, I could convince him that I was fine on my own. I swallowed thickly. Is that what I wanted, though? The thought of being alone in my apartment sent fear tingling down my spine again.

“Could we leave my car at your place and come back for it tomorrow?”

Saturdays were pretty uneventful for me, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.

He turned and gave me a quick once-over before focusing on the road again. The look was enough to send heat creeping up my neck. But my mind and body were heavy with exhaustion, and I really didn’t feel up to getting back in my car right now.

“Sure.”

Ten minutes later, I took in the details of his living room, surprised by how tidy it was. There wasn’t a single article of clothing hung over the back of a chair, and there was no clutter. Not even a stack of mail on the entryway table. Now that I was witnessing the way he lived, I was nervous about bringing him back to my place. It was clean, but I was not good at keeping the clutter to a minimum. Clothes always hung over furniture, mail collected on my counter, and shoes tended to pile up by the front door.

I was still examining the room when Dylan appeared with a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Ready to go?”

I nodded, and then we were heading to my apartment.

“Tomorrow,” he said, glancing at me from the driver’s seat, “we need to sit down and talk. I’m going to need names of anyone you’ve met or talked to in the last six months.”

“Okay.” I cocked my head, beginning a mental list. It would be a chore to recall some of the names. I’d been on a mission to find Mr. Right, but hadn’t been successful. More than anything, I’d met a string of men who were altogether forgettable. “Might be easier if I give you my login information.”

Brows pulled low, he studied me. “For what?”

“For the dating apps I’ve been using.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Are we talkingTinder?”

“Ew, no.” What kind of girl did he think I was? “More likeeHarmony,MatchandBumble.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, you’re going to lecture me on the dangers of online dating now?”

“Nah. The security and tracking capabilities of those apps are a whole lot better than they used to be.” At the stop sign down the street, he looked over at me. “But I’ll need you to think about people here in town. Anyone who has shown interest in you, even if you haven’t reciprocated.”

That was easy. The list was nonexistent. I couldn’t think of a single guy who’d paid methatkind of attention. At least not recently. But I nodded anyway.

As we entered my apartment, I collected the shoes and a few items of clothing scattered around the living room.

“Sorry it’s messy. I haven’t had time to straighten up this week.”

I eyed my small sofa, a pit forming in my stomach. I was a jerk, I realized, for expecting Dylan to squeeze his six-foot frame onto the thing. Then again, I hadn’t asked for a babysitter.

“No worries.” He tossed his backpack onto the armchair closest to him as I headed down the hall toward my bedroom.

Once I’d stashed all the items I’d picked up in my bedroom, I returned, finding Dylan on the sofa with his laptop balanced on his legs.

“Do you mind writing down those sites and your login information for me? I’m going to start making a list.”

“Sure.” I grabbed a pen and piece of paper from the drawer in the kitchen and pulled out my phone to look up the usernames and passwords I had saved. “Here you go.” After handing him the information, I shifted my weight and yawned, feeling like I’d just run a marathon. “Need anything else before I head to bed?”

“I’m good.” He studied me silently for a moment, then dipped his chin. “Get some rest.”

Ten minutes later, I fell into bed, and I was out in a matter of seconds. When I woke again, it was dark, and I was thirsty. I usually kept a glass of water on the nightstand, but I’d been too tired to remember to bring one to bed with me. I padded barefoot toward the kitchen. As I passed the bathroom door, it opened, and I jumped a foot in the air.

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