Page 56 of Melody

Sitting on the side of the bed, he grabbed his jeans off the floor and started pulling them on. “Have you even had coffee yet?”

“No.”

He pulled the curtain back on the window and could feel cold seeping through the pane. “Isn’t there a coffee shop around here?”

“Um, yeah. Quick Drip is catty-corner from Tequilaville.”

“Okay,” he said, pulling his t-shirt on. “Let me just grab us some coffee. Then if we talk for five minutes and you still wanna go, you’ll at least have some caffeine for the road.”

He could hear hesitation in her voice. “How fast can you be?”

“Uh…what time do they open? If they’re closed, I can run to Starbucks.” Surelytheywould be open by now.

“I’m pretty sure they open at six.”

Kyle picked up his phone to check the time, relieved to know that they’d be open by the time he got there—ifthey opened this early. “Do you have a favorite latte or do you just want regular coffee?” Thanks to dating Hayley all those years and her job as a barista, he at least knew there was a large variety of different concoctions coffee shops liked to create.

Again, there was hesitation in her tone. “I guess a mocha would be nice.”

“Perfect. I’ll be right back.” He threw on his jacket and started to leave the room. “Do you want to prop the chair back under the doorknob?”

“Yeah, I better.”

The main living area was darker than her bedroom because less light shone out there from the bathroom—but Melody already had her phone flashlight at the ready. Kyle said, “Is there a certain way I should knock or anything to let you know it’s me when I get back?”

Now he could hear amusement in her voice. He took it as a good sign. “Just say your name. I’ll know.”

“Oh, yeah. Makes sense.”

He pulled the chair out from against the doorknob but then, as an afterthought, he drew her close and held her tightly to his chest. Even through the towel, he could smell the scent of the shampoo she’d used, a light, fresh, floral scent that stirred something inside him. Hewantedto keep her safe, to do whatever he needed to make her feel protected. He knew he was on the clock and that if he didn’t hurry, she’d leave regardless, but he hoped he could go for a few minutes without her bailing. Then he kissed her on the forehead. “Be right back.” As he pulled the door open, he asked, “I’ll wait until you tell me the door’s good.”

“No, go ahead. Just hurry, okay?”

Never had he bounded down a flight of stairs so quickly. Once out on the sidewalk, he pulled his jacket tighter around his frame and looked around, trying not to make it obvious with the motion of his head what he was doing: looking for suspicious characters. The only car he saw running was across the street in front of the coffee shop—and the lights on in the business told him they were definitely open.

It was a relief.

Although he had to wait in line behind one other person, the barista made the coffee quick: a mocha latte for Melody and a regular coffee for himself. When he spotted some delicious-looking scones under the glass, his stomach rumbled—and he bought a couple of almond and two blueberry ones, hoping Melody would like one of them.

It was still fucking hard thinking of her bythatname.

If he hadn’t been carrying two hot coffees, he might have run back to her place, but he had to balance the tray while also carrying a bag—only a challenge when he had to pull the door open to the apartment building. But he had assured himself that there was no one watching the place—the few cars parked along Main had plenty of frost on the windshields and the temperature was well below freezing. If someone were spying on her, their windshields would be clear.

Once at her door, he held the bag in the same hand as he held the coffee tray so he could knock. “It’s Kyle.”

But there was no answer. Jesus. Had she left already?

He realized, though, that there was no sense panicking. He waited a few more seconds and then knocked again, this time using the side of his fist so it would be louder and firmer. He knocked longer this time and then, at the end, he repeated his name.

Still no answer.

Setting the bag and coffee tray on the floor, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. She hadn’t sent a text message, so he called her number without a second thought. But instead of answering, she pulled the door open. Already she was dressed, her damp hair combed out. He picked up the bag and tray and came through the door, setting the items on the table. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just blow drying my hair.”

“Want me to put the chair back?”

“No, I got it.”

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