Page 79 of Texting Dr. Stalker

The slightest thrill worked through me.

“I’m fine over here,” he grumbled, his voice extra gravelly.

Tugging the covers back, I forced a smile. “I won’t be able to talk if I’m worried that you’ll fall over any second. Sit…please.”

He huffed. “So you’re brave enough to boss about a masked man with no problem, but a creaking house gives you nightmares.” He softened the rather harsh sentence with a low chuckle. “I’m not sure there’s a word for that condition.”

“Grateful. That’s a word.” I smiled the tiniest bit. “I’m grateful you’re here. I’m grateful that you sacrificed your sleep for me. I’m grateful that you gave me someone to talk to.”

He sucked in a breath and stepped toward me almost against his will.

I waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent. With jerky footfalls, he closed the distance between us, turned around, then bent his long legs to sit on the low mattress.

The bed sagged with his weight, and the covers pulled over my hips as he scooted backward and rested his shoulders against the wall. Looking behind him, he studied the crane wallpaper I’d installed.

The joins weren’t perfect, but I was proud of my first attempt. I’d done it on my own and watched countless YouTube videos to get the paste mixture right.

“It’s pretty.” He dropped his stare again, his warm brown eyes meeting mine. “You did a good job.”

I frowned. “How do you know it’s new?”

He twitched as if I’d caught him in something he didn’t want to reveal before he grunted, “I saw the delivery of renovation supplies. It also smells freshly painted in here.”

“I’m not used to the fact you know quite a lot about my life thanks to watching me when I know nothing about yours.”

Reaching toward his feet still on the floor, he undid the buckles and laces of his boots before toeing them off and spreading his legs on top of my comforter. “How are you feeling? Was it a panic attack like before?”

I never took my eyes off him, studying the smooth skin of his forehead and the faintest lines feathering out from his gaze. He’d told me he was thirty-four. I didn’t think that was a lie, judging by his half-appearance. “You know, one of these days, I won’t let you change the subject.”

He chuckled under his breath, his voice extra raspy. “One of these days, you won’t want to talk about any subject with me.”

“Perhaps.” I nodded. “Or maybe I’ll want to talk to you forever.”

Skirting the topic once again, he ordered, “So…talk to me now. Tell me what happened.”

Facing him, I sat a little taller. With our eyes locked, I searched for all the words that’d suffocated me before.

And found I was peacefully silent.

I wrinkled my nose and pulled back a little. “That’s strange.”

“What’s strange?” His forehead furrowed; a few blue-black strands fell forward, catching on his eyebrow piercing.

“I’m not afraid anymore.” The biggest yawn made me moan with exhaustion. “In fact, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

He laughed softly and patted the bed. “Then lie down and try to sleep.”

“But you’re here.”

“That’s probably why your body isn’t fighting sleep anymore. You have someone else to stand guard. Your system is ready to shut down and rest.”

“But I didn’t drag you over here to be my bodyguard.”

“You didn’t drag me, Lori, I came willingly. I’m glad you texted me, and I’m happy to be your bodyguard. I’m happy to be whatever you need.” Hesitantly, he held out his arm. “Lie down.”

Eyeing up the cradle he made with his open arm and body taking up most of my bed, I yawned again. I’d heard of tiredness that you just couldn’t fight. I’d succumbed to it myself a few times recently, but I fought it all the same.

I didn’t want to sleep while X was here.

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