Page 159 of Faking the Goal

"Seriously."

"You've clearly never seen me leave dirty dishes in the sink."

I laugh again, shaking my head.

"Nope. Doesn't matter. Romantic points still outweigh dishwasher crimes."

He laughs with me, then glances toward the main floor as another burst of cheering erupts from the stage.

"Well..." He cracks his knuckles. "Duty calls."

"Try not to throw anybody through a wall tonight."

"I'll make no promises."

"That's the Christmas spirit."

He shoots me one last grin before disappearing into the crowd, already scanning the room with the sharp, watchful eyes that made him so damn good at his job.

Watching him go, I can't help thinking that if every girl working here had a Conrad looking out for her, this place would feel a whole lot safer.

After my conversation with Conrad, I head toward the employees' break room, weaving past dancers coming off stage and waitresses hurrying back out onto the floor with fresh trays of drinks. The room is quieter back here, the muffled bass vibrating faintly through the walls as I make my way over to my locker.

I'm already halfway through fishing my key out of my purse when something makes me pause.

My locker isn't locked.

I frown.

For a second, I simply stare at it.

Did I... forget to lock it?

I rack my brain, trying to remember the end of my last shift. I'd been exhausted. We'd closed later than usual, and I'd practically dragged myself home afterward. Maybe I really had forgotten to lock it.

Shaking my head, I wrap my fingers around the metal handle and pull the locker open.

The breath catches in my throat.

Inside, there is a small box.

Perfectly centered on the middle shelf, like someone had taken the time to place it there carefully.

I don't have to wonder who it came from.

I already know.

It's from him... my stalker.

Every muscle in my body locks.

For a few long seconds, I simply stand there staring at it, my pulse beginning to pound so violently I can hear it echoing inside my ears. My mouth goes dry. The room suddenly feels too warm, too small, the music from outside fading into nothing but a dull roar.

No...

No, no, no...

How the hell did he get in here? Did anyone even see him?