Page 136 of If Our Hearts Collide

“So what has you looking so”—Luke taps his finger along his jaw—“promiscuous?”

I giggle. “I’m just going to a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be utilizing my flirting lessons?”

“Hopefully.”

Luke reaches out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

When I don’t instantly obey, he makes the gimme gimme hand.

“Why do you need it?”

“I need to program my number into your contacts in case you ever need something.”

My lips curve into a smile as I hand it over. It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to me. Despite the oversexualized shell he likes to hide under, at his core Luke is a sensitive guy. And the more we interact, the more I’m coming to learn this about him. “Thank you.”

“I added myself and texted from it, so now I have your number.”

I nod, and then glance down at my phone. “Super Hot Roommate?”

Luke manages to look offended. “Make it a statement and not a question.”

I roll my eyes, then head over to the main door. Taking a few cleansing breaths, I open it and swallow down all of my fear.

Baby steps.

Knowing that Collins has at least one person watching me, I decide to take the elevator to the lobby and then walk to the boutique where I had my outfit delivered.

The last time I was in the shop, I noticed that there are back door exits.

Using my phone, I schedule my ride with a female driver—and this time from a researched and known company. I then gather some outfits in my arms and pretend to shop, while discreetly checking my phone to see how far away the car is.

When my driver is just a few minutes from the boutique, I make my way into the dressing room and text her to meet me at the back of the store.

“If you need anything while in the dressing room, just ring the bell,” the worker instructs.

“Actually,” I lower my voice while cracking open the door, “I think some creeper is following me. Can I escape out the back and visit tomorrow to try on some clothes?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Should I call the police?”

I shake my head. “I think it’s probably just my paranoia.” In a way, I’m not lying. It’s not like I actually see anyone following me—I just assume.

“Okay, come with me.”

She opens the heavy metal door, and I step out into the fresh air.

The car waiting to pick me up is idling, so I wave goodbye and settle into the backseat. I remind the driver of the address that I have tucked into my handbag on the folded-up postcard and relax my head against the cushioned headrest.

This wasn’t so bad. At the very least I should be able to have an hour of fun before Collins’s minion finds me and makes me return to my fortress.

However, the more time that passes on the trip, the more I fidget in my seat—crossing and uncrossing my ankles on repeat. I can’t tell if I’m more nervous about being found or about the event itself.

We drive the entire way in silence, passing through the city of Portland and then finding ourselves on the outskirts where the stars start to become more visible with the lack of light pollution.

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