“Yeah, but it’s fine.” I go to her, wrap my arms around her. “I really want you to come with me.”

“Okay. I guess I can go. I’ll ask someone to cover my shift at the coffee shop tomorrow.”

“Good.” I won’t have to force her, then. “Do you have a duffel bag or something?” I open the closet, which is stuffed with clothes. “You’re a mess, Natalie.” I like things neat and organized and this drives me insane. From the top shelf, I grab a backpack. “This’ll do.”

“What about Pepper? She’s so old, I worry—”

“We’ll bring her too. She can stay at my house and someone will watch her.”

“I can ask Drew maybe.”

“Come on, I want to spend the night with you.” I go to her, take her hands, draw her to me. “I haven’t fucked you in my bed yet.”

She grins, her eyes brightening.

I kiss her, then let her go. “Just toss what you need in there and let’s go. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“Um, okay. I guess.”

I take the vase with the flowers and head to the stairs.

“Wait, don’t throw them away.”

“The whole place will stink by the time you’re back.” No way this thing is staying inside her house. I fucked up. Shit, I hope I’m overreacting. Hope this Drew guy left them.

When I’m sure she can’t hear me, I take my phone and call Eric. I tell him I want a man on her. One at her house tonight.

By the time Natalie comes downstairs, Pepper’s waiting by the door and the flowers have been tossed into a neighbor’s trash bin, vase and all.

“You’re anxious,” she says, setting the backpack down to get her coat.

I notice what she’s wearing for the first time, a pretty wool dress that hugs her tight. It comes to just below her knees and pointy-toed shoes finish it off.

“You look nice,” I say.

“Thanks.”

I take her coat, she slips it on and we leave a few minutes later. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t notice that I’m watching every person who passes us, memorizing their faces, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t want to bring up the flowers again, not until she gets confirmation from her friend. I’m hoping I’m wrong about them even though my gut tells me I’m not.

“Oh,” Natalie says. She’s reading a text message when I get into the driver’s seat after settling Pepper in the back.

“What is it?” I ask, starting the engine and pulling out.

She types something back before turning to me. “Drew didn’t know what I was talking about.”