Page 30 of Watching Ames

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m not asking for your opinion.” She shot me a cold glare that allowed no argument but softened a bit when she saw that I wasn’t trying to control her, but rather look out for her safety. Her voice gentled as she reassured me, “I have locks, and I’ll have a phone once I get back to my apartment. You still have your cameras so you can look out for me in case you don’t hear from me and you get worried. I just…I need some time to get my head together and figure out next moves.”

Every instinct in my body fought against the idea of letting her leave, but I wasn’t a monster. I wouldn’t keep her here against her will. At least, I hadn’t gotten that desperate yet. I wanted her to stay with me because she wanted me, not because she had no choice. I handed Ames her keys, which I’d picked up off the floor last night and stuck in a drawer, following her out the door as she started to pick her way across the driveway on bare feet. I scooped her up instead, taking the keys from her and unlocking the door so I could deposit her straight into the driver’s seat.

Her cheeks were pink when I finally pulled away, but I didn’t call her on it, just allowed myself to bask in her response to my touch for a moment as I rested my forearms on the doorframe.

“Look at me.” Her head turned up instantly, lips parting in surprise at the commanding tone in my voice that I had rarely used with her. I watched her cheeks darken further, almost groaning as my imagination ran wild, wondering if those pinked cheeks were because she liked being bossed around and liked my voice doing it. “I’ll be checking in with you. You can still be mad at me over all this shit, that’s fine. But promise me you will call if anything happens. I meant what I said: this is your house. If you need somewhere to stay, call me. If you hear a noise and get worried, call me. I’m not going to take advantage or assume anything about us if you decide to come back. If you want to move in and kick my ass out, that’s okay. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Promise?” I tucked a piece of hair that had fallen out of its bun behind her ear, tugging her earlobe the way she pretended not to like. She shot me a small smile at the gesture, holding up her pinky until I wrapped mine around it.

Then I watched her drive away and fucking prayed she’d come back.

Chapter19

Her

I wouldn’t go back.The words were a litany I repeated in my head as I left Alex’s house, a commitment I planned to keep now that I was no longer unsafe in my own home.

I expected my anxiety to ebb away as I put miles between myself and Alex’s house, especially as my rational mind kept trying to remind me that I had just spent the night with my stalker. I looked forward to getting back into my own space, so I could process what had happened with Peter.

Plus, it would give me time to consider everything Alex confessed to me, time to try and reconcile the friend I had been falling for with the stalker my rational mind kept trying to convince me not to trust. Even if he gave me the key to his bedroom and held me while I slept and made me pancakes in the morning while answering every question I threw at him with more reasonable answers than I would have expected. Not entirely reasonable, but reasonable enough considering everything I knew about him.

Instead of relief, the coil in my gut that had unfurled over the past few hours started to tighten again as I put distance between us, as if urging me to turn back around.

But it was harder to trust my gut in the light of day, when the shock had worn off and I wasn’t desperate for a place to stay while my life was falling apart. The gut that had prompted me to trust Alex the night before looked like a liar and a fool as the morning sun crossed the sky. Trusting Peter and being proven wrong didn’t make Alex any better. Admitting to stalking me for his work didn’t excuse the wrongness of what he did. And if the idea of him watching me for months just to get to know my likes and interests warmed my blood more than I wanted to admit, well, that just proved how fucked up my judgment was. It was dangerous, being near him, a place where my common sense didn’t hold any sway over my actions or feelings.

The thoughts rolled through my head the entire drive home, my good sense and instinct warring with each other even as I walked up the stairs to my apartment, easily opening the front door Peter had left unlocked, since he didn’t have a key.

My apartment had the same stale smell that places did after a long vacation, like things had changed in the time I’d been gone, even if it was only for a few hours. Everything was still in its place, sitting perfectly preserved as if my life hadn’t fallen apart. I was still dressed in Alex’s clothes, the woody, spicy scent relaxing my shoulders from where they’d hiked up close to my ears as I made my way to my bedroom.

The smell of paint had seeped into the hallway, and despite my expectations, the mess in the room was fairly tame, most of the paint having splattered on myself and the cloths draped across the floor to protect the carpet. I toed the roller where it had fallen on the sheet - the bristles stiff where the paint had dried and sighed in frustration at having to start the process over again.

Overwhelmed, I grabbed my phone from where it was still plugged into the speakers, having died sometime overnight. Then, I closed the door to the bedroom after quickly changing into my own clothes, resolving to tackle that mess when the memories from last night weren’t so fresh on my mind.

Instead, I plugged in my phone and grabbed a few boxes, wanting to do something with my hands if only to keep my mind occupied. I had a thousand things on my to-do list, though luckily work wasn’t one of them. The studio was closed for the weekend, both because of the holiday, and because June was out of town for the next few days. And I would be moving. My landlord had already mentioned finding a tenant to pick up where my lease left off, guaranteeing I’d be forced to find a new place to live. That thought spurred me on, and I grabbed a few boxes on my way into the guest room, boxing up the items that I wouldn’t need for the next few weeks in an attempt to get my affairs in order. After a couple of hours, though, my eyelids began to droop, the last twenty-four hours weighing so heavily on my mind that I crawled into bed, curling my body between a few boxes.

The sun was barely setting when I woke up, stretching out on the guest bed for a moment before pulling myself up in an attempt to get motivated. I grabbed my now-charged phone and headed toward the kitchen for a more substantial meal than the granola bar I had eaten before falling asleep.

My steps stuttered just as I entered the kitchen, two immediate differences catching my eye before I'd fully entered the room. One was the bouquet sitting on my countertop, garishly yellow roses clashing with the half dozen neon pink sticky notes plastered on my kitchen cabinets. The anxiety hit me in the chest so strongly that I lost my breath, eyes stuck on the front door as if it would open again as I backed toward the bedroom.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket with one hand as shaky fingers attempted to lock the bedroom door with the other. I curled up in the corner of the room, closing my eyes as I rocked, flinching with each ring that passed without an answer.

“Ames, what’s wrong?” His voice sounded terse, and I could hear frantic tapping as I imagined him pulling up the cameras to my apartment to make sure I was safe.

“Can you come get me, please?” I hated how shaky my voice sounded, but the brave façade I’d been able to fool myself with this morning was gone, and instead I was left terrified once again, unsafe with nowhere else to go. Or rather, nowhere else I wanted to be.

I wasn't stuck this time. I had my phone and money and could even pack a bag of items as I hid myself away in a hotel or at June’s house. I imagined leaving the bedroom, walking to the front door, only to have the knob turn under my fingers, Peter standing on the other side with Penny’s key. Even the imagined scene was enough to force a sob up my throat, and I almost choked on it until Alex’s voice was in my ear, the rough command in his tone forcing me to sit up and swallow my tears.

“Ames, answer me.”

“I forgot Peter’s assistant had a key.” Alex understood the implications, because he swore under his breath before he answered.

“I’m leaving right now, sweetheart. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Do you want to stay on the phone with me while I drive?”

“Yes.” I whispered the answer, falling onto my side so I was curled in the fetal position, the phone resting on my cheek while Alex remained on the line. I heard a few slamming doors on his end and the rumble as he started his car, which slowly turned into the sounds of traffic as he made his way toward me. All the while, he kept up a steady reassurance, counting the minutes until he’d reach me.

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