Chapter 11

It’s probably close to one in the morning when he’s more inebriated than I realize and he says, “I know about you stalking me.”

“Stalking you?” I almost fall off my stump and plop into the fire. “What are you talking about?”

Confidently he says, “Be a man. Admit it, you stalk me.”

I shrug, begin to shake my head. Stop. “Never. I wouldn’t dare.” Is he falling for my lie? Can he see through it? I think so.

“Maybe you know a little more than you should about me.”

“I’d say that’s not true.”

“Then let’s test you. Here and now. I want to give you a pop quiz about me.”

He can’t be serious. But he is.

“Ready?”

“Guess I don’t have a choice.”

He chuckles. “What’s my favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

“What shampoo do I use?”

“Suave. Nothing expensive. You’re not a label whore.”

He nods. Grins. “Two out of two. Not bad. You definitely stalk me.”