Did he just say we?
As in, me and him?
Like we?
"Stop overthinking. I know you want more." He says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"You seem to know a lot of things." I huff, looking down at my hands in my lap.
"I know you more than you know yourself." He tells me. Pfft! Boy, you don't know me.
"You did. I've changed now." I say refusing to look at him because I'll probably drool or cry or both.
"You don't think I haven't seen you at least once in the past year?" He asks.
Has he....been stalking me?
"You did, didn't you?" He asks impressed.
"How dare you? You've been stalking me?" I explode.
"Well, when you put it that way...yes, but I call it looking out for you." He says matter of factly.
"You didn't have to. I'm fine." I try to be as dry and emotionless as possible.
"Sure you are. Gang life's not for you, babygirl. I saw you when you raided that new bar. You seemed so out of place." He recalls the memory that I didn't want him to bring up.