Page 103 of Over the Line

“Don’t make me go get your landlord for a well-being check. I will. And you know it.”

With a massive sigh of frustration, Sydney tossed aside the cozy throw and padded to the entryway.

She pulled open the door just as Vanessa was getting ready to start thumping on the wood again.

“I could have been out for a walk or a run. Maybe riding my bike.”

Vanessa shrugged. “Of course you could have been. But you’ve probably been sleeping like shit. So you would have gotten up early and done that and now you’re back to moping.”

“I don’t mope.”

“Yes, my friend. You most certainly do. You are a world-class moper, in fact. If it were a competition, you’d win a gold medal.”

Still blocking the entrance, Sydney brushed her damp hair back behind her ears. After her early-morning run, she’d taken a quick shower. But instead of dressing, she’d changed back into her comfiest PJs.

“Since you didn’t invite me in, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a vampire.”

“What?”

“You know, vampires can’t just enter your home. You have to invite them inside. But since I’m human, that means I can barge right in, whether you want me to or not.”

Sydney shook her head as Vanessa did just that, pushing past her with the force and determination of a bull charging at a red flag.

“I’m guessing you didn’t have breakfast yet.”

After expelling a breath between her pursed lips, Sydney closed and locked the door.

Vanessa moved aside Sydney’s blanket and the pile of pillows that she’d made into a tiny nest, then she snatched up the remote control as she plonked herself down on the couch.

“Could you be any more obnoxious?” Sydney protested.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. In fact, I haven’t even gotten warmed up yet. Just wait and see.”

Sydney didn’t doubt her friend, not for a minute.

Vanessa pressed a button that took her to the television’s home screen and scrolled until she found a true crime channel.

Then she propped her feet on the glass coffee table.

Annoyed beyond words, Sydney swatted Vanessa’s legs, but, stubbornly, she refused to move.

With a heavy sigh, chased out of her comfortable spot, she sat at the far end of her own couch.

“So did you?” Vanessa demanded, her gaze glued to the screen in front of her.

“Did I what?”

Rather than answering, Vanessa said, “Yep! This is what I was looking for.”

Anything but this. “I hate shows about murderers.”

“Yeah. I know.” Vanessa shot Sydney a wicked grin.

So she’d picked it intentionally.

“Other than to punish yourself with exercise—or to go to work—how long has it been since you left this place?”

Sydney glanced around. “What’s wrong with my condo?”