Once he left, I’d get online. Work for a few hours, then close down the webcams and play. I’d found a new website the week before, a black site where crime photos are posted. A hundred new pics every hour. It’s become my midnight snack, my mental feeding ground that I devour in the final moments before sleep. Dr. Derek would flip a shit if he found out. Dr. Derek can kiss my ass.

“What are your plans next week?” My eyes opened at his question.

“Next week?”

“Yeah.” His fingers brushed gently across the top of my head, threading into my hair and sliding down, the movement heavenly, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

“Nothing.” Always nothing. The life of a shut-in doesn’t really involve plans. “Why?”

“Just asking.” A pause before the response, and something in that pause. A decision had been made in those milliseconds. My eyes wanted to reopen, but I held them shut. Let the moment pass.

Our dance of avoidance. We’ve gotten quite good at it.

CHAPTER 5

Past

THERE WAS A stranger, leaning up against the wall, when Jeremy walked down the sixth-floor hall. The girl had a cell phone out, thumbs furious against the screen. She glanced over once, then back, a second glance that would have, at one point in time, pleased him. But now he had Deanna, had no need for this girl, her hair a loud shade of blond, her jeans tight, eye makeup dark and obvious.

“Hey,” she called out, right around the time that he’d raised his hand to the door of 6E. He gave her a nod and knocked. He didn’t need to knock; he could’ve just turned the knob and pushed in. But he liked the question, liked the grin Deanna gave when she swung it open, didn’t like any possibility that he was uninvited. Plus, he’d seen her cam before, didn’t need a reminder of her job by walking into a live version of the show.

“Hey,” the girl repeated, louder this time, pushing her body off the wall and ambling toward him. “Got anything for Evans? 6G?”

He shook his head without checking the list. “Sorry.” Reached up and knocked again. Willed Deanna to hurry up. Could see, in his peripheral, the girl crawl closer.

“That’s the weirdo’s apartment, right?” She giggled and stepped close enough for her cheap perfume to reach him. “I’m Chelsea.” She stuck out her hand. Short, dark purple nails flashed in the vicinity of his crotch. Unavoidable. He shifted Deanna’s package to the other arm and slid his hand into hers. “Jeremy,” he mumbled.

And at that moment, the door swung open.

CHAPTER 6

Past

THE STRANGE BITCH had a grin stretched across her face and was looking up at Jeremy, every tooth in her mouth peeking through sticky glossed lips at him. His eyes darted to mine and he smiled, his grin lopsided and easy, his hand pulling from hers as he stepped forward and kissed my cheek. “Hey, babe.” His breath was warm on my cheek, his hand firm as it pushed at my door. The forward step of his foot carrying him across my threshold, a whoosh of hot air floating through the open door and hitting my bare skin. A hundred other details that faded as I focused on her.

The hand, the one that had gripped my boyfriend’s hand, lifted higher, past a peek of tan stomach, in front of a tight blue shirt with Betty Boop’s face stretched over an impressively perky set of double D’s. Her arms crossed and the breasts became even bigger. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Just being friendly,” she drawled, her eyes dropping and sliding over my bra and thong set. A perfectly tweezed eyebrow raised. “Cute outfit.”

I didn’t respond, my shoulder hitting the door frame as I stared back at her, comfortable. “You just move in?” My snooping of our hall had drastically reduced since I got a life. Still, I couldn’t have missed a move, the loud noises of furniture banging and scraping down our thin hall.

She waved a dark-tipped hand down the hall. “Staying in 6G for a while with my brother.”

6G. Simon’s place. Brother. My eyes dragged over her hair, skin, eyes. They seemed clear and clean, no evidence of drugs present. Her lips moved, the white glimpse of her straight teeth making another unwelcome appearance. I studied her features and tried to conjure up Simon’s face. Tried to recall if, behind the unmaintained exterior, he had been blessed with the genetic makeup this girl carried. I didn’t see it. They were too different. She clean. He dirty. She attractive. He disgusting.

“I’m Chelsea.”

Chelsea. Of course she was. I felt the shift of Jeremy behind me, heard the slide of cardboard as he moved my mountain of boxes enough to fit in the next addition. Heard the slice of his box cutter as he ripped apart and broke down one of the empty ones. “Have a nice day, Chelsea.” I shut the door as she started to respond.

“Have a nice day?” Jeremy mocked my response from behind me.

I turned to face him. “Too sweet?” I asked, tilting my head and surveying him. His legs were spread slightly, a box cutter still in his grip. He raised a wrist to wipe at his mouth and his bicep flexed.

He shrugged and the blade flashed against one of my cam lights. “Just was a little tamer than I was expecting. I figured you’d drag her in here and jump on top of her.”

“Is that what you wanted, Mr. Pacer?” I stepped forward and watched the casual flip of his thumb as he retracted the blade, his eyes narrowing slightly as he caught me watching it. “Deanna…,” he warned.

“I’m fine.” I stepped closer and unhooked my bra. Took one more step, reaching a hand out and tugging the box cutter free, his body tensing. I didn’t look at it, held my own breath until the moment I tossed it off to the side, the hit and skitter of metal indicating its harmless slide to the far side of the room. I exhaled, the tension leaving his limbs as he returned his attention to my face, a drugged arousal clouding over him as his gaze dropped to my now-bare breasts. “But I’m gonna need you on the bed. Now.” I shoved on his chest, and he staggered back in the direction of my bed, a smile returning to his face.

I pounced on him.

Unzipped and pulled him out.

Silenced his mutters of time with my mouth as I straddled his cock and sat down atop it.

And sometime, right before I came, I forgot about the box cutter.

CHAPTER 7

Past

“YOU’RE INVITED TO family dinner this Sunday. My sister wants you there.”

My fork stopped halfway to my lips, a wrap of pad thai noodles slipping free in the gap of time. I looked at Jeremy and noted the way his eyes slid from me. He wet his lips and—for the first time in recent memory—I didn’t want to grab his shirt and kiss said lips.

“Your sister wants me there?” An interesting choice of words. He set down his fork and sat back in the chair. Lifted his chin and looked at me straight on.

“Yeah.”

“What about you? What do you want?”

His shoulders lifted but nothing else moved, the casual gesture not matching with any other line in his body. His neck was stiff, his jaw set, his eyes now boring defiantly into me. He was physically prepped, as if for battle. It was a ridiculously hot look. I set down my own fork. “You don’t care?” I mimicked him, sitting back in my chair, the metal of its back ice-cold against my bare skin. I should have pulled on a sweatshirt. Or turned up the thermostat. Something so that, right now, I didn’t look like a shivering pussy.