I'd been so very tired and so very excited to crash for the night.

Today was harder than I would've ever imagined -- we never found the girl's parents, but the detectives think they found their remains. And as soon s the girl went home with her grandparents, I cried the entire lone car ride home.

Now, my eyes were puffy and I was itching to feel my head against the shitty motel room pillow.

But of course, there's a knock on Hunter and I's door.

Groaning as loud as I possibly can, I hope it will make whoever is on the other side go away.

And when I open it, I don't know whether I should be surprised or not that it's Tyler.

I can't help the deep, exasperated sigh that escapes past my full lips as my hand tightens around the door, ready to slam it if needed. I don't say anything, just raise my brows as I wait for him to speak his piece and for me to be done with it.

He purses his lips for a moment, working his jaw back and forth as he looks at the ground until pulling his hand from his pocket and meeting my tired eyes, hopefully gathering the cue that I want him to hurry up and speak. "Thought you left. Got scared."

"Tyler Owens, scared?" I try my very hardest to act amused. "I'm flattered."

He rolls his eyes, letting me know that my response isn't what he meant to come across as. He means to ask why I'm still here.

I cross my arms over my torso. "We missed our checkout time this mornin'. Be a waste of money to leave."

He looks surprised, thumbs resting atop of his cracked leather belt. "I figured you'd be staying at some five-star hotel. Not this dump."

"Yeah?" My brows raise but not because I'm listening to him any more than half. "Why's that?"

He shrugs. "You're a genius with a sick-ass job. Shouldn't you be a millionaire by now?"

Right. A lot has changed in my life in the last few years and it's embarrassing to admit that I broke up with him for nothing because I turned out to be nothing like the meteorologist he knew two years ago.

"I, uh, can barely afford this place." I say with a sigh, rubbing my tired eye but what I neglect to tell him is that nobody takes me or my methods seriously -- our hours of research was a waste.

He doesn't look at me with pity because he knows I don't need it or care for it, but his eyes linger on me for a long, long minute like he's analyzing me -- trying to depict whether I'm lying or not or what game I'm trying to play. And the answer is none.

"I got a place to show ya." He grins, a glint in his green eye.

My brows do actually raise in amusement this time. "You takin' me on a date?"

However, he doesn't have to respond because just a few feet behind him stands Kate waiting at the top of the staircase for him to be done at my door.

"How romantic." I meet his eyes once more. "I'll pass."

I watch his eyes follow where mine previously were and his face goes white as a ghost -- immediately frantic. "Oh, no, Dal--"

I go to close the door, sparing him from his frantic embarrassment and allowing me to finally sleep, but he catches the black door with a flexed arm. "I'm good, really."

"You gonna make me spell it out for you?" He doesn't budge.

I hope I look as unamused as I feel as I slam the door in his face. "Goodnight Tyler."