Until May (Until Her/Him #11)(34)

I go to the door and open it up, breathing a sigh of relief when I find that the bruises from yesterday have faded slightly along with the cut on his upper lip.

Without a word, he takes a step toward me and drops his mouth to mine, greeting me with a kiss that makes my toes curl as he walks me backward into the house.

“I’ve been waiting to do that all day.” His hand curls around my waist, and I whimper, leaning up on my tiptoes, wanting him to keep kissing me and never stop. When he pulls back, he doesn’t let me go. Instead, he bands his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him so my chest is pressed tightly against his abs. “You’re cooking?”

“Yes.” I rest my palms against his chest, then lick my lips. “I made salmon. Do you eat salmon?” I ask, thinking I should have asked him that before I went to the store and got the stuff for dinner.

“I’ll eat anything you make.” His hand comes up so he can cup my cheek. “But you didn’t have to cook. I was planning on going out to pick something up for us or ordering in.”

“I like cooking,” I tell him, then look down at our feet when Cooper barks again, something that isn’t normal for him to do. Really, he hardly makes any noise at all, even when someone he doesn’t know comes over. When Cooper runs to the door, then back to me, I see a very pretty yellow lab sitting just outside the front door on the welcome mat, watching Aiden and me like he’s waiting to be invited inside.

I completely forgot Aiden mentioning earlier today that his friend had to work tonight, so he wouldn’t be able to keep his dog, and telling him to bring him over.

“Dozer, come,” he calls, and the dog lazily gets up and walks toward us, totally ignoring Cooper, who is sniffing and circling him like he’s never seen another dog in his life.

“Well, aren’t you pretty.” I squat down so Dozer and I are eye-to-eye, and as I rub his head, Cooper takes that as his opportunity to lick my face, reminding me that he’s right there too. “Do you like cats?” I ask Dozer but look up at Aiden, and he looks at his dog before shrugging one shoulder.

“He’s never been around a cat since I’ve had him, but since he’d rather sleep than do much of anything else, I doubt he’s going to bother Blue or Bella.”

“I like my sleep too,” I tell Dozer, giving him one last rubdown, then give Cooper a hug so he knows I still love him and stand up. “Did you hear anything from the police about yesterday?” I ask Aiden over my shoulder as I head to the kitchen to check on dinner.

“No, since I’m not pressing charges against the driver of the truck that hit me, I didn’t need to contact them.”

“But what about the biker who was driving like a lunatic?”

“I doubt the cops will be able to track him down, since no one got his plate number.”

“Jerk,” I mutter, finishing washing my hands before I go to the oven and open it to check on the salmon that I brushed with a simple mixture of olive oil and dry Italian dressing.

“I did speak to Noah when I picked up Dozer. He finally had a chance to look into that number that’s been texting you, and all he could find out is whoever is messaging you is using a burner phone.”

“What does that mean?” I grab sour cream, wasabi, and two limes from the fridge.

“That it’s untraceable,” he tells me, and I rub my lips together, not sure what to do with that information.

“He sent me a message yesterday from a new number. Do you think it’s the same thing?”

“He sent you a message yesterday?” he repeats, and my nose scrunches at his tone. “What did he say?”

“Just to talk to him.” I shrug. “I blocked the number.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” he asks, leaning onto the island across from me.

“I don’t know.” I tip my head to the side and bat my lashes. “Maybe I was distracted by the fact that you had gotten hit by a car.” I roll my eyes at him, then add the wasabi to the sour cream and start zesting some of the lime into the bowl. “Besides—” I wave out a hand toward him as I go to get a knife. “—eventually, he’ll realize that I’m not going to talk to him, and he’ll give up.”

“Babe, you changed your cell number, and he got your new one, then you blocked him, and he got a new number so he could message you again. I’d say it’s safe to assume that he’s not going to just fucking give up.”

“He will,” I disagree, then chop one of the limes in half and start squeezing the juice into the bowl. “And besides that, I didn’t tell him where I live or anything, so it’s not like he’s going to show up here.”

“So you didn’t give him your number?”

“You know I did.” I sigh when his jaw starts to tic.

“Is your cell private?”

“What do you mean?”

“Could someone use your cell phone number to find your address?” he asks, and I stop what I’m doing to focus on him.

“My number is attached to my family’s cell phone plan. My sisters and I never got off our parents’ account, since we could never get the deal they have. Instead, we send our mom the money each month for whatever we owe.” I chew the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know for sure that my information is private, but knowing my dad, it probably is. He’s way overprotective and paranoid when it comes to his family,” I tell him and vow to ask my dad tomorrow if our numbers on his account are private. I’m sure they are, but the idea of Mike—or whoever he is—tracking down my parents’ address does not sit well with me.