Drew dropped down beside me on the couch with a laptop instead of inviting me into his computer-stuffed Batcave. It made me wonder what the hell he did with all that stuff even more, but those thoughts fled and left me numb and empty-headed when he navigated to a national missing persons site.
He'd sat right next to me, my shoulder brushing his upper arm and our thighs close enough that I could feel the heat of him, but I had to resist the urge to inch even closer. I mean, much closer, and I'd have been in his lap, and the laptop already had that spot.
Not that I wanted to be on his lap. But I felt edgy and out of sorts, my mind spinning in circles. His warmth and solidity pulled me in.
I resisted anyway.
"Do you want to do it?" he asked me, his hands hovering over the keyboard.
"No." I cleared my throat to try to get rid of the rasp in my voice. "You do it."
He typed in "Asher Stern" and hit enter.
