“Absolutely.” I started closing the door, still smiling around it. “Thank you, Wanker.”

“Wanker?” His eyebrows shot up.

I shut the door with a click, turning my back against it. I let out a breath of air, then drew another one in even more slowly. I closed my eyes. I needed to calm down. He was up there. And he was waiting. The meeting was finally going to happen.

There was no way I was going to calm down.

I grabbed my key and patted my pocket to make sure my phone was there, and I lingered on my bedroom door. I had a Taser in there. Erica never knew about it, but old habits died hard. I’d kept it just in case, and Kian was a killer.

Do I—I gulped—need it for him?

No.

A voice sounded in my head. It was final and strong.

As soon as I heard it, some clarity started to peek through the storm in me. It was a smidgen, enough to calm some of the jitters in my stomach. The Taser remained hidden in my room, and I stepped out into my hallway before locking my apartment door. Moving to the side hallway and then up the stairs for the roof exit, there were two sides inside me.

One was yelling at me to turn around, leave my building, and call Snark, call the cops, call the cavalry. The other side had a Zen-like calmness to it. I was going where I was supposed to go. Seeing Kian was the right thing. He wouldn’t hurt me. He never had. He had only protected me.

Both sides weren’t quite rational, but I kept climbing up those stairs until I was standing in front of the roof door. It looked locked, but I knew I could go through it.

I’d been up there once when I first checked out the building before moving in. I had come with Erica to look at the apartment. Upon Snark’s urgings to make sure I knew all the ways in and out of the building, I had gone back a second time, alone, and finding the roof door had been on that agenda.

The door was old and heavy. I stepped out and looked around. The roof was empty, except for two worn-down lounge chairs set up by the roof’s edge, overlooking the city, with two big rocks on the bottom to anchor them down from strong winds. Beside the door was another large rock. I didn’t know if it was used to prop the door open—well, that had to be the only reason, so I started to roll it into place. The door was open by a good foot in length, and I stepped forward.

Goose bumps littered my arms, up and down, and I started shivering before I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hug off the chill.

“Kian?”

I stepped farther out from the door and looked around. The city cast a hue from below, giving the roof’s edge a light that looked like it was hugging the building. It was beautiful. The night was clear with stars blinking from above. I would’ve appreciated the sight more if I wasn’t focused on all recesses of the roof’s shadows.

“Kian?”

He wasn’t here. I stepped even farther away from the door and slowly felt myself rejoining my body. The euphoric high that I was riding on, that was so closely mixed with panic, started to ebb, and I became more grounded.

He wasn’t here. All of this had been for nothing.

My shoulders settled down an inch, and I turned back for the door.

“I was waiting for your boyfriend to leave.”

I stepped in his direction and saw him. He was at the edge, and he shifted toward me. His words and where he was clicked with me. He was standing at the side of the building that overlooked my street. He’d been waiting to see if Jake left the building or not.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” My voice didn’t sound attached to my body. It was hoarse and high-pitched, like I was nervous and breathless at the same time.

Kian was still in the shadows. The hue from the street was behind him, so I couldn’t make out his face, but he started for me.

I fell back and then caught myself. My teeth sank into the side of my cheek. I forced myself to stand there, waiting for him, but half of me wanted to run away while the other half was leaning toward him.

He moved closer, and the light from the door illuminated his face. The door was behind me, so the light was mostly blocked, but there was a small slit from where the door was attached to the doorframe. It wasn’t a lot, and the small light disappeared as he moved even closer, stopping just in front of me. I still couldn’t fully make out his face, but that split second of vision had been enough.

Dark.

Brooding.

Deadly.

Gorgeous.

Molten dark eyes, angular high cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips that seemed to rest just perfectly while waiting to be curved high into a smile or to be pulled down into a frown.

As he came toward me, his lips showed neither emotion. He was just watching me back. My eyes traced his silhouette. He was still tall and lean, but his shoulders were bigger than I remembered. His shirt hugged to his form, showing how cut he was. He looked even more like a deadly weapon than he had been before going into prison.

His eyes narrowed, and I could feel him assessing me. I glanced down to the floor, wondering what he was thinking as he took me in. The streetlights were behind him but facing me. He could make out my face, my body, my everything.

My teeth sank even more into my cheek. What did he see when he looked at me?

He murmured, “He’s not?”

“He’s not.” That came out like an annoyed huff. I flushed, not intending it to be like that.

I could hear Snark yelling at me in my head. I needed to get away. I couldn’t see Kian. He was a part of his team, the evil lawyers who wanted to blame everything on me.

I began to edge for the door. What had I been thinking?

“You look different.”

I stopped. “So do you.”

Through the darkness, I caught how the side of his mouth lifted into a half-grin. It moved back down, and he stepped closer to me. He was looking down at me. There was still space between us. I couldn’t feel his body heat. Another person could’ve wedged their way between us.

“Why did you come see me? How did you even know where I was? Or recognize me?” There. Finally, I was sounding like an adult. There was the golden question that I wanted answered.

He didn’t answer.

He continued to study me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his scrutiny.

“To make sure you were all right. I hired a private detective, and I helped him out. I thought you might be going here. I remembered one of your speeches in school was about how much you loved this school, and I knew it was you.”

I was stunned. “Really?” He remembered that? And he just knew it was me? How do I digest all of that?