Elian brought me home after the incident. He also bought the brownies that he promised.

"Are you going to watch as I take out my spare key, you stalker?" I asked.

"Why do you keep forgetting I'm your boss and you're supposed to show me respect?" he grumbled and turned around.

"Well, you don't like it when I call you 'Sir', so deal with it," I said and kneeled down to take out my spare key from under my neighbor's flower pot. I didn't keep it under my flower pot because of the high chances of getting robbed as a single lady.

"There are other ways to show respect, you know?" Elian said.

"I will show you respect when it's needed. Right now, I see no need," I replied.

"I think I deserve respect more than ever now. How many bosses do you think will bring their employees back home and buy them brownies?" he pointed out.

"Nice bosses would," I retorted and opened my apartment door.

"So you're indirectly saying I'm nice now?"

"Once in a while, you are," I said and turned to him with a smile. "Anyway, thanks. I mean it. It was very nice of you to bring me back home."

"No problem. Just try not to die during the weekend, especially considering how much trouble you're attracting this week," he said, and I chuckled.

"I will try not to." I took the brownie box bag from him and said, "So I'll see you next Monday then?"

He hummed, and as I was about to enter, he asked, "You're going to eat the brownies alone?"

"Yes, why?" I arched an eyebrow.

He shook his head. "No, nothing. You just don't seem like the type to enjoy eating alone."

True. He was right. I didn't like to eat alone. But when I have lived alone in this apartment for two years, how could I not learn to eat alone? Maybe I ate alone throughout my university life as well.

"Yes, I don't. But there's nothing I can do about it. Not like you're going to accompany me," I joked.

"Well, I could, if you want," Elian said, and I was genuinely surprised at his offer.

"You would? Why?"

"Because I have nothing else to do and you are sad, so I might as well do some charity," he said and walked past me inside the apartment as if it was his own home.

"Hey, don't just barge in!" I hollered after him and closed the door. "Don't you know you should never enter a girl's apartment or bedroom without permission?"

"Sure, whatever. It's not like your apartment is ever messy in the first place," he commented and sat down on the couch.

"How did you know?" I inquired.

"Well, I saw it when I came here a few days ago. Stop suspecting me at everything. I'm not stalking you." He shot me a glare.

I shrugged and walked to the kitchen to take out some plates. "Who knows? For all I know, you could have been the one to send the thief to steal my handbag so that I would have to spend the night with you after being homeless."

"Excuse me? I would have never told you about looking for a spare key if I wanted that," he retorted.

"Sure, as if that would have never occurred to me myself. Do you think I'm that dumb?" I questioned while opening the brownie box.

"No. But stop accusing me of baseless things."

"Just admit it, you're stalking me," I feigned an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, then did you think about how you let your stalker inside your home?" he pointed out, and I chuckled at how he started playing along, instead of protesting in vain.

I knew for sure that he wasn't a stalker. He might be a murderer, but not a stalker. He didn't have time for that, and he was too prideful as well.

I went back to the living room with their respective desserts. I had gotten a red velvet, just in case, thinking that I would give him that as a thank you. Thank goodness, I did get it.

When my eyes fell on him on the couch, my breath hitched.

Elian's suit was now resting on the armrest of my couch, while his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and I could see the fine lines of muscles on his forearm.

God, even if he was a stalker, he was a really hot one. Any girl, including me, would be over the moon to have someone like him fawn over herself.

I shook my head to get rid of the dirty thoughts that were starting to form and commented, "You know, if anyone sees you like this in my apartment, they will get the wrong idea."

"Neither of us cares about it, do we?" Elian shot back.

"True." I placed the two plates on the coffee table and sat down beside him.

"How did you know I liked red velvet?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Did you think you were the only one with a good guessing power?" I said, fixing the color of my blouse haughtily.

He chuckled lightly.

I grinned proudly and started eating my brownies. I had three brownies on my plate, and I was almost sure that he was going to tease me about it, but surprisingly, he didn't make any comments on it, which I really appreciated. I was really tired of people asking why I ate so much dessert.

I just loved them, so I couldn't help it—nothing more.

We ate in silence until Elian spoke up, "Hey, do you mind if I take a bite from yours? It's just been really long since I ate brownies."

"Well, too bad, I don't share my brownies," I said, taking my plate away from him.

"C'mon, I'm sure you can spare a small bite," he insisted.

I shot him a glare and said sternly, "I only share my brownies with one person."

"And that is?" he urged.

"He is..." I trailed off because no name came to my mind. I couldn't remember who it was that I shared my brownies with. But there definitely was someone. "I forgot who."

And for a moment, I saw sadness flash in Elian's eyes before he covered it up and said, "Well, since you can't even remember this person, I might as well just take a bite on his behalf." He cut a really small piece of my brownie and ate it.

I chuckled suddenly as a thought occurred to me.

"Why are you laughing?" He raised an eyebrow.

"For all that we decided on not being friends, look at us sharing food like good friends," I said, grinning. I had told myself countless times over the week that I was going to be completely professional with him, and yet, here we were.

"We are not friends," he objected, scowling at me.

"Why are you so opposed to us being friends, huh?" I asked curiously.

"I just don't want to be. Isn't that reason enough?"

"No, it's not," I said firmly. "Do you have bad memories with friends?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong with being friends with me?"

"Stop interrogating me like a criminal, will you—"

Just then, his phone rang up. He seemed grateful for the distraction as he picked up the call while I continued eating my brownies.

But I noticed his expression changing drastically.

"What's wrong?" I asked when he put his phone down.

"A few of the firearms trucks have been stolen, and the firearms that did reach the military are malfunctioning. Plus, there were illegal explosives in it."

My eyes widened. "What? How can that happen?"

"I don't know, but we are screwed, Alena."