Page 47 of The Lair

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, boss man, but what are you doing here?”

His hand moves, and I notice the plastic bag he’s holding. “Got a lock for your door.”

The butterfly in my stomach breaks free from the cage I’d shoved it into, proceeding to flutter all over my body, out of control.

“Do you want me to install it?” he asks, his eyes scanning mine.

He got a lock for my apartment. He came all the way here to give it to me because he knows I’m scared.

The lump in my throat doesn’t let me speak. I can only nod.

“All right.” He gives me one last unreadable look before taking out some tools from his plastic bag and getting to it.

I hurry back to the kitchen like a scared cat, my frantic heart threatening to burst out of my rib cage. But I can’t help myself and peek at the front door, where Travis is indeed putting some kind of high-tech lock on my door. Thisisreal life.

“Have you had dinner yet?” I ask him, suddenly not wanting him to leave as soon as that lock is in place.

He doesn’t look away from the lock as he asks, “Are you offering to feed me?”

My heart leaps. “What if I am?”

“Smells fucking good in here, so I’d say yes.”

His easiness makes me smile despite my nerves. “I’ll make a plate for you. Do you like chicken tikka masala?”

“I do.” This time, he glances at me over his shoulder. The softness in his eyes turns my legs to goo. “Thanks, Allie.”

Ten minutes later, there’s a new lock on my door and my boss is sitting next to me on the couch, eating my food. How did my night turn into this?

“This is good,” he tells me between bites.

My cheeks grow warm. “Really?”

He nods, wasting no time to eat another spoonful.

Satisfied with his reaction to my cooking, I sit back on the couch and try to finish my food without glancing at him every two seconds. We aren’t talking, and the TV isn’t on, but the silence between us isn’t awkward.

When he empties his plate and I offer him some more, he gets up and says, “Don’t move.”

I try not to smile when he comes back with another plateful, but I fail spectacularly.

“Guess what.” I wait until he turns to me with that stoic expression. “Charlie arranged an apartment tour for me tomorrow.”

I grab my phone and show him the pictures of the apartment Charlie sent me earlier. It’s a bit of a shoebox, but at least it’swithin walking distance of work. Most importantly, it’s in a good area—I triple-checked. “What do you think?”

Travis takes his sweet time answering. “It’s all right.”

“That’s it? Come on, boss man. Give me something else.”

“It looks good. Who’s renting it?”

I check the text Charlie sent me with all the info. “A guy named Robert Marcelli.”

He hums, adding nothing else. I let him finish his second plate of chicken tikka masala in peace but don’t waste a second as soon as he’s done. “If you see something wrong with the place, I would like to know before I move there. I value your opinion.”

“This is your choice to make, Allie. I don’t want to boss you around.”

“You’re not. I asked.”

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