Carmen hums appreciatively. "I never thought about it like that."

As soon as our drinks land on the table, I get a prickling sensation on the back of my neck that someone is watching me.

I can't explain it, but it's as if I can feel the gaze burn into the back of my head.

Whipping my head around to stare out the windows overlooking Central Park, I don't necessarily see anyone out of the ordinary, but if Travis hired someone, I wouldn't know who to look for in the first place. The girl who broke into my townhome still hasn't been discovered. I have no clue what hair color she has or her eye color... She could be anyone.

A woman in the distance is walking her poodle, but she's watching her phone more than the path in front of her, not a lick of her attention pointed toward the cafe. A family is holding hands with ice skates as they make their way to the rink. There's nothing but snow covering the grass, a murky gray sky, and families enjoying themselves to raise my suspicion. So why does it feel like someone is staring at me?

"Hello?" I focus back on Carmen, who is currently waving her hands in front of me. "Are you good? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I'm just being paranoid. That has to be it. Archer and the police department haven't had any luck determining who broke into my townhouse that night, and knowing Travis is still on the loose somewhere has me on edge. There's no way I'm being stalked in broad daylight, right?

"Nothing." I shake my head, pushing the tingling feeling aside. It's no use telling her I'm edge. They've coerced me into coming out with them enough times to know how afraid I am of Travis, and I don't want them to think I'm going back to hiding from him and taking steps back because I'm not. Training with Lincoln is going well, and the more practice I get, the more confident I am that if I ever face that fucker again, I'll be able to do something about it.

"Are you sure?" She asks. I should know by now she can read me like a book. Glancing out the window behind me, she tries to search was I was looking for.

"Positive." I plaster a fake smile on my face as if the feeling isn't gnawing away at me and analyze the menu when suddenly, my phone chimes. The noise makes me jump out of my damn skin.

"You don't seem positive," Carmen huffs. "What the hell is going on? What happened?"

My pulse is thrumming rapidly in my throat, all of the hairs on my neck standing on end from the constant feeling that someone is out there somewhere. This could all be in my head. It could be my fear overpowering my rationality.

When Lincoln's name appears on my screen, I breathe a sigh of relief I didn't realize I was holding in.

Lincoln: How's lunch with Carmen?

My fingers hover over the screen, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. Lincoln has never assumed I was crazy, and out of anyone, he knows how justified my fears are. Anyone would be on edge if their psychotic ex were threatening them, but I don't want to worry anyone. Maybe I'm in denial, but pretending it isn't real is helping. No part of me wants to actually consider that someone is staring at me through this window.

Me: Everything is great :) How was your meeting?

Lincoln: Boring. Would have been much more intriguing had you been here and I had something to fantasize about.

Me: You can't hold out for a few more hours? Poor baby.

Lincoln: Poor baby, indeed. I'm suffering here. Can you think of a way to make it better?

My lips quiver into a smile, and the uneasiness seems to flow right out of my body. See? I'm just being paranoid. All I need to focus on is the sexy man I'll be coming home to and the plans I have for making his suffering come to an end.

My thoughts jolted when Carmen slaps her hand down on the table. "What is going on?" She presses. "You're acting weird as hell! First, you look like you're about to faint, then you're all jumpy, and now you're smiling! What gives?"

"I'm fine," I insist. "Besides, if anyone is acting weird here, it's you with your mystery person who gifted you a fucking Birkin. Care to explain that?"

I know I've got her when her lips form a thin line. I refuse to open up to her about my fears if she won't open up about her mystery man, whom I'm betting all my money on, is Jett. I saw the way she looked at him while they danced. The way her pupils dilated, and her breathing quickened. She's not fooling anyone.

"Exactly. Didn't think so. Now let's order, shall we?"



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