A heavy beat falls between us, weighted by those three simple words.

“You don’t know me well enough to trust me,” she remarks.

I shrug. “I’m getting to know you. That counts.”

Blakely says nothing. I know I’m coming across as direct and ignorant. I just hope that my attempt to lower her defenses isn’t too obvious. For this moment, I choose not to disturb the silence, just let us acclimate to each other, hopefully giving her the sense that there’s no need to force conversation.

I want to close my eyes so I can let my other senses absorb her. Beneath the smell of pond and city smog, I catch the faint scent of her perfume. Notes of coconut milk and bergamot. I want to find out the name of it. There’s a buzz at the feel of being so physically close to Blakely. The air is energized between us, heated molecules firing from her skin to mine. An electric current coaxing my body toward hers.

She has a natural allure.

It’s the law of conservation of energy. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed in form, and she’s her own isolated system, luring my cells to merge with hers in one fiery explosion.

Just as I turn toward her, she sits forward. Dusts her palms off on her thighs. “We should leave.”

“Okay, but what’s the plan?” I grab my backpack and chase after her as she heads down the path.

She pauses near the paved pathway to look up at the towering gothic building of The Plaza. “To get you inside the attic this weekend.”

I hitch my pack over my shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me first if I agree to this?”

“No,” she says, and starts off again. “You wanted excitement, you’re about to get it.” She tosses a crooked smile back at me.

“Sure. Any sage words of advice?”

“Yeah. Don’t fuck up.”

Target

Blakely

The arousing scent of freshly brewed coffee awakens my senses. I accept my double espresso from the young barista with a neck tattoo and take a steaming-hot swallow before I push through the coffee shop door.

Alex is waiting for me at the corner. “Did you know that processed coffee has more toxins than any other food or beverage?”

I take an extra-long swig as I stare at him over the brim of the paper cup.

His smile is mocking. “Noted.”

“Come on, Bill Nye. Unlike you, I’m not on vacation, so I do have a day job to check in with.”

We cross the street at the crosswalk, and I let Alex lead me to his apartment building. In order to use the information that Alex’s application siphoned from Ericson’s phone, we need to clone it onto a new device. Then I can figure out the next step of this insane plan.