Instead, I’m driving home with his tie in my lap and his cologne on my skin, feeling more like myself than I have in weeks.
Beth Taylor would never do this. Beth Taylor is boring and safe and would never dream of breaking and entering.
But Stevie Reeves? Stevie Reeves is thriving.
I pull into my apartment complex as the sun sets.
The beige building looks the same. The beige stairs. The beige door.
But when I step inside, there’s the teal blanket on my couch.
Saul’s blanket.
Proof that someone’s trying to help me build a life here.
And tucked against my hip, the tie I stole from the man I can’t stop orbiting.
Not proof of relapse. Proof of resurrection.
I hang my keys by the door. Walk to the bedroom.
Set the tie next to Dario’s pen. My altar. My receipts.
Proof that Stevie Reeves didn’t go quietly.
I don’t want to stop. I want to escalate.
To see his face when he finds the cookies. When he sees the jacket. When he realizes someone was in his space, touching his things, breathing his air.
I want him to know it was me.
To come looking.
I curl up on my bed, still wearing his cologne, the tie pressed against my chest.
And fall asleep reeking of sin and cologne.
Chapter Fifteen
STEVIE
I’ve been wearing Dario’s tie for three days.
Not out in public. I’m unhinged, not stupid.
Just around the apartment. While I enter billing codes. While I stress-bake. While I masturbate with his pen. While I have full conversations with myself about whether this constitutes a mental health crisis or just a quirky coping mechanism.
The tie still smells like him. Even after forty-seven outfit changes, three mental breakdowns, and one near fire caused by broiling cookies too long while fantasizing about riding his jawline.
I should probably wash it. I will never wash it.
I’m collecting pieces of a man I’ve spoken to exactly zero times.
At this rate, by Christmas I’ll have assembled an entire Dario from stolen accessories. A Build-A-Mobster kit. Comes with a pen, a tie, and complete disregard for federal law. Emotional stability sold separately. Some assembly required.
Saul called yesterday. Asked how I was doing. I said “great!” while literally wearing Dario’s tie and wrapped in Saul’s blanket.
The compartmentalization required to survive my life is genuinely impressive.
