By Loving the Killer

That's Your Warning

I knock on the bathroom door, a pile of Nick's clothes in my arms.

"You can come in."

I slowly open the door. Peter stands in front of the mirror with a towel hanging off his hips and a toothbrush in his hand, staring down at it. I set the clothes down beside him on the marble counter.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

He nods and pushes his wet hair from his eyes.

I give him a soft smile. "You smell good," I laugh.

He breaks a small grin. "Thank you, Harper," he says.

"You're welcome."

We stand there staring at each other. I don't allow my eyes to leave his—if they do I don't trust them not to wander. He seems like he's searching for something to say, and I am too, because I don't want to stand in the bathroom alone with him while he's naked and not say anything.

"I'll let you change," I finally say. I clap him on his bare shoulder. "I'll be in my room."

I wiggle out of my jeans and put on my running shorts before Peter comes back in, and I take my bra off from under my t-shirt. My mattress sinks as I sit on it. I swing my legs absentmindedly, looking around my room at all the decorations and thinking about remodeling it. I could get some strings lights to hang up. I could repaint my walls—I love to paint in general, so maybe I could even paint a mural on one of them.

Peter steps in my room. "Thank you," he says again.

"You don't have to keep saying that."

I pat the spot beside me on the bed. "Do those clothes fit okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," he nods. "I need to get back to Mom soon."

"Do you have a phone?"

He laughs and nods. I cringe.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean—I was just going to give you my number."

"Give away," he says, handing his small phone over to me. I grab it and key my number into his contacts. There aren't many.

I hand his phone back. "You can stay the night," I say. "And your mom."

"I'll talk to her about your offer tonight."

I rest my hand on his shoulder. "I want you to know that I'm completely serious. I want to do this for you if it's what you want."

He nods. "I know."

I drive him to where his car is. And I get out this time, so I can meet his mom. Part of me wants to make my offer to her myself, but I refrain as I shake her hand and talk to her about my day, because I know it's Peter's place to approach her about it and not mine.

"It was lovely meeting you, Marlena," I smile. "Bye, Peter. I'll see you tomorrow."

ꙨꙨꙨꙨꙨꙨꙨꙨꙨ

Amorie skips up to me in the hallway, clutching a paper in her hands.

"Hey," she smiles, walking backwards in front of me.

I nod. "Hey."

She wiggles her shoulders. "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm super excited and what this paper is?"

I scoff and say, "Why are you super excited, and what is that paper?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she says, turning so that she's walking in pace beside me. "This is the cast list for the school play."

"And you got. . . ?"

"Belle!" she shrieks, jumping up and down. "You should totally be a stagehand!"