“I’m not her fucking stalker.” “No? My bad then. I just figured since I picked you up near her apartment, in the middle of the night. And you had me do a background check, run her financials, and track down her surviving family members…” he trails off, then tips his head toward Twin’s Café. “And now you have me stopping here”—he glances at the clock—“one minute before her shift starts.” His eyes move back to meet mine, but I hold his gaze. “I’m not stalking her.”
Totally her stalker
