Page 162 of No Need to Run
I try to imitate what she did… but it doesn’t look like her masterpiece at all. More like an artist versus a child.
“It looks awful.”
“It’s fine,” she says, stepping behind me.
Her hand closes over mine, guiding it across the wall.
My breath catches.
“Less pressure,” she murmurs, her voice beside my ear. “Let me guide you.” Her warm breath tickles my skin. “Like this.”
Her fingers adjust mine on the handle.
I swallow hard, trying to focus on literally anything else. The wall. The spackle.
I can’t breathe.
“Better,” she says softly.
She releases my hand and steps back.
The loss of contact is immediate. Noticeable.
The space between us feels… wrong.
She moves past me, heading to the supplies before glancing around the room again. Not aimless or curious, but measured, like she’s taking inventory.
Her gaze drifts to the front window, and her brow furrows. “Did you clean that?” she asks.
I follow her line of sight.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Why?”
She shrugs, already turning back toward the wall. “It looks clean in that spot.”
I frown slightly. “You noticed that?”
She shrugs. “I notice things.”
She says it so casually.
Something about it settles uneasily in my chest.
I study her for a second longer.
She looks normal. Unbothered.
I’m reading too much into it.
“Right,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair. “Of course you do.”
Because that tracks. Everything about her feels like she’s already three steps ahead of me.
And I don’t know if I like that.
I glance back at the window.
I wiped the heart off when I saw Ivy looking at it suspiciously. I didn’t know how it got there or who did it. I just assumed the previous owner did it.
