Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Carefully, I peer through the narrow window to look inside, finding Lexi sitting at one of the computer desks on the back wall, clicking away at the keyboard in front of her. I lift a hand and knock, hoping I don’t scare the shit out of her.
She jolts and turns to look, cupping her hand over her eyes and squinting to see through the window. I wave, and she jerks her head back as if struck.
She doesn’t look angry—just surprised. Thank God.
I don’t know how well she can hear me through the door, but I chance talking anyway, feeling only slightly like a goober. “Hey, Lex. Let me in. I brought dinner.”
She spins in her chair and types furiously again, clicking something that makes the screen go black before getting up and jogging over to the door.
I breathe a small sigh of relief as she turns the handle and pushes the wood obstruction toward me, letting me in.
“Did you say dinner?” she asks, and I smile, holding up the bag.
“I did.”
“It’s not dorm pizza, is it?”
“Nope,” I reply. “It’s Chinese takeout. From a restaurant with approval from the New York Department of Health and everything. I checked their certificate.”
She rolls her eyes but laughs too. “Come on. Come inside.”
I step in quickly, not about to squelch the invitation, and survey the space discreetly. There are probably fifteen computers and chairs in this room, and yet Lexi’s is the only one occupied.
“You’re here all alone?”
She shrugs. “It’s not exactly regular hours.”
“It doesn’t freak you out? Being in this dark building by yourself at night?”
She frowns. “Maybe now it does.”
I laugh. “Well, don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll protect you.”
“My God, your masculinity is smothering,” she teases, cracking an actual grin for a change. It feels like a huge win.
It’s not that she’s not emotional—she’s just hugely reserved with showing it. The more time I spend with her, the more I’m starting to understand that.
“As long as it’s not toxic,” I say in reply, pulling up the seat next to the one she was sitting in, placing the bag on the table, and unpacking the food.
She watches closely.
“I got a little bit of everything.” I set the lo mein to the side to pull out both fried and white rice, and then I take out the chicken, beef, and shrimp. I didn’t know what she’d like the most, and I’m not picky, so whatever she doesn’t want, I’ll take. “Pick what you want.”
She considers the food carefully before reaching out and snagging the lo mein. I wait patiently, smiling when she grabs the chicken too.
“Hungry?”
“More than I realized. I’ve been here since eight a.m. and only brought coffee and a banana with me.”
“Ah, well…happy to be your knight-in-food-bearing-armor.”
“How’d you know where to find me?” she asks, grabbing one of the plastic forks from the table next to the food, sitting down in her chair, turning to face me, and cracking open her carton of lo mein.
“I made an educated guess. Though, I almost gave up halfway through the building. This place is almost as hard to find as Abrams was at the end of the tunnel challenge.”
She smiles slyly. “Good thing you got the practice that night, then.”
“How do you come up with the events?” I ask, curiosity about the mysterious Double C getting the best of me. I doubt she’ll answer, but it’s worth a shot.
She shrugs. “Different ways. If you know the history of Dickson, it makes it easier.”
“That’s the most nonanswer answer I’ve ever heard.”
“Best you’re gonna get.”
“Yeah, I figured,” I admit through a chuckle. “And what about your sidekick? What’s his name?”
“Connor?”
“Yeah, that’s him. What’s his deal?”
She tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…how do you know him? Why do you trust him? Why’s he involved?”
She shakes her head, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. “I’ve…known him what feels like forever. When we both came to Dickson, we maintained a friendship, and I don’t know…the rest of it just seemed natural. He understands me better than a lot of people do.”
“I’m jealous.”
“Of what?” she asks, her brows drawing together.
“Of his knowledge,” I reply simply. “I want to know you too.”
Blushing, she turns back toward her computer and sets the lo mein on the table next to the keyboard, swapping it for chicken and popping open the top. I toss a shrimp into my mouth and then switch to the fried rice, scooping a forkful into my mouth and chewing before moving my line of conversation to something a little less scary.
“So, what have you been here working on all day? Something with your dissertation?”
She pauses briefly, her fork hovering in front of her mouth with a juicy piece of sesame chicken. I can’t explain it, but it almost seems like she’s more afraid of this question than any of the others.