Page 39 of Keep Me Close

“Okaaay.” She stretches out the word, as if she doesn’t believe me.

Smart woman.

“It really isn’t necessary,” she says. “I won’t be gone long.”

“If I’m not going with you, you’re not going at all.”

One brow arches. “Is that so?”

I plow a hand through my hair and force myself not to snap. “It’s six in the morning and you’re in a city you don’t know. You’ve also got an ex who tracked you to a hotel two thousand miles away. So, yeah, I’m not wild about the idea of you out there on your own.”

Her expression softens, but only slightly. “Knox⁠—”

“He knew where to find you,” I cut in, more quietly now. “That’s not something to fuck around with.”

I can see the exact moment it all comes tumbling back to her. The hotel. The flowers. The note. The way her ex keeps slipping past lines he has no business crossing.

She lowers the bottle from her mouth, and I brace for an argument, because she’s stubborn enough to give me one on principle alone.

Instead, she examines me in silence before her shoulders lower. “Okay. Fine.”

Relief hits hard enough to weaken my knees.

“But only because you look two seconds away from having a coronary,” she adds. “And that’s not something I want on my conscience.”

I huff out a laugh. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”

I dump the rest of the coffee down my throat, knowing I’m going to need every drop of caffeine, before heading to my room to get dressed. By the time I return, Cheyenne is stretching near the elevator.

She’s bent forward with her palms pressed flat against the floor. The hem of her sweatshirt slides up again, exposing that same tempting strip of skin. My gaze locks there for one beat too long before I force it upward.

“Ready?” I ask.

She straightens before meeting my gaze. “Yup.”

The entire ride down to the lobby, I wait for her to bring up the kiss.

She doesn’t. And neither do I.

I’m not even sure what I’d say. It certainly wouldn’t be the truth.

The electricity sizzling between us continues to ramp up with every floor we descend. I’m barely holding on by a thread when the doors open to the lobby. It’s a small blessing when the frigid morning air slaps at my cheeks. The city hits us all at once. There’s traffic whizzing by, a few pedestrians on the street, and the sun rising over the buildings.

Chey glances at me. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

She takes off at an easy pace and I fall in line beside her. It only takes half a block to realize she’s not screwing around. Her stride is smooth, efficient, and strong.

When I glance at her, she catches me looking. “Problem, McNichols?”

“Not at all.”

“Interesting, because your expression says otherwise.”

I grunt, not bothering with a response.

A laugh slips out of her. “You didn’t think I was a serious runner, did you?”