by D. Laine
“You take up stalking in your spare time now?” she asked me.
“Funny,” I laughed drily.
“No. Not really,” she returned promptly. “Seems like a legitimate question to me.”
I flashed her a crooked smile while I bumped up the speed on my treadmill. “I’m not stalking you.”
Not really. Though I hadn’t spoken to her since Saturday afternoon, I had kept tabs on her from a distance. As far as I could tell, Kyle had not approached her again. He also had not given us an opportunity to catch him—like he knew he was in danger. With several of his buddies dead within a matter of a week and a half, he had been cautious. He and the professor.
But no. I wasn’t stalking her. Not technically.
“You sure seem to pop up around me a lot.” Her finger pressed a button on her machine, and she increased her speed to match mine.
“I’m sure a lot of things ‘pop up’ around you,” I returned with a sly wink.
Her head tilted. “Was that a crude joke or . . .”
“More like the truth.” I promptly accelerated to a brisk jog. Her eyes narrowed on me a moment before she increased her own speed, again to match mine.
Her breathing came heavier, but she held her own long enough to ask, “Do a lot of girls fall for that crap?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Doubtful.”
“Why?” I turned to wiggle my eyebrows at her. “My handsome face not enticing enough for you?”
“Don’t ever let me accuse you of being modest,” she fired.
“I would never attempt such a thing.”
She stared at me while we both ran, the steady thumping of our feet and the whir of the machines filling the silence as it stretched between us. Finally, she scoffed and turned to bump the speed button again.
Without hesitation, I matched her . . . and rose her one level. Her eyes dropped to the screen in front of me. She paused briefly before matching me once again. I shook my head with a chuckle. While I was impressed she could maintain this pace, I was even more impressed that she managed to counter my wit.
Who in the hell was this girl?
The more time I spent around her, the more I found myself intrigued. Not only by her body—which was banging in its own right—but her personality. Her mind . . .
My God. What the fuck was wrong with me?
I wasn’t deep. I never went for girls like Thea.
Yet, there I was, ignoring the other coeds in the gym that morning wearing skimpy shorts and sports bras in favor of another exchange with the one girl I already knew my panty-dropping grin didn’t work on. Well . . .
It didn’t get immediate results from Thea. My grin worked on her, just a little slower than I was accustomed to. Not that I was actively trying to get into her pants.
I didn’t think so anyway.
Hell, maybe I was.
I bumped up the speed in an effort to push the jumbled thoughts out of my head. I shot an amused glance over at Thea as her hand drifted toward her own control panel. Before she could push the button, her finger was swatted away by an unexpected visitor.
“What the hell are you doing, Thea?” the girl I now recognized as her roommate yelled. She promptly bumped Thea’s speed down to a brisk walk. “What about your knee?”
“It’s fine,” Thea returned quickly. With a furtive glance in my direction, she powered down her treadmill and stepped off the machine.
With her back to me, I eagerly knocked my pace down several notches. I would never let her know how grateful I was for the roommate’s interference, but damn was I ever grateful. I hadn’t run like that in a long time.
While the two of them shared a moment of silent communication beside me, I finished my workout and pretended I didn’t notice the looks that passed between them. From years of picking up chicks in bars, I’d learned to recognize the hidden meanings behind these secretive looks.
The roommate wanted to know if Thea was hooking up with me. Thea responded with the “I can’t talk to you about this right now” head tilt. The roommate lifted her eyebrows to ask, “If you don’t want him, can I have him?”
I took my time stepping off the treadmill as I eagerly awaited Thea’s reaction. The glare she directed at her roommate brought a smug smile to my lips. Good to know Thea wanted me for herself, even if she wasn’t entirely ready to jump me . . . yet. I shouldn’t be happy about that, but I was. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure I would—or should—do anything about it.
I needed to get my head on straight.
By the time the roommate wandered away and Thea turned in my direction, I had my poker face in place.
“I have to get going,” Thea told me as she slung a bag over her shoulder. “I have class this morning.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She took a step, then stopped. Her eyes raked over me, lingering briefly on my arms as I meticulously folded them over my chest. “Do you, um . . .” She shook her head once before squaring her shoulders. “I usually stop by the campus café for some coffee on my way to class, if you, um . . .”
I smiled at her difficulty in asking the question I knew she wanted to ask. Little did she realize that she could probably ask me anything right now and the answer would be yes.
“I like coffee,” I offered in an effort to help her out.
“Yeah?” She sighed her relief.
“Yeah.” I turned toward the door, pausing to look at her over my shoulder. “You coming?”
With a relieved smile, she fell into step beside me for the short walk. Situated next door to the gym, the small café was currently filled with a mixture of students and faculty on their way to class. After purchasing our drinks, we squeezed into a vacant table in the corner away from the mob in the lobby.
Since I had a thing about making sure I faced any and all possible points of entry, I sat with my back to the wall. That permitted me a clear shot of the front door—and Kyle Davenport the moment he walked in. I watched over the rim of my mug as his gaze swung around the lobby, as if he were looking for someone.
Thea. Of course. He knew her routine. He knew she would be here.
I didn’t doubt that he’d been following her, watching and waiting, for days. As had I, but I had good intentions whereas he definitely did not.
He made that clear a moment later when his eyes swung in our direction. They narrowed, first on me and then on the back of Thea’s head. His lips curled menacingly. When his eyes drifted up to meet mine, I offered him a smirk.
“What are you looking at?” Thea asked me. Before I could stop her, she glanced over her shoulder. Her head dropped with a soft shake. Then she flopped back into her seat with an annoyed sigh. “I should have known.”
“Yeah.” I cautiously watched the vessel as he moved to the counter to place an order. “What did you ever see in that guy, anyway?”
“He wasn’t always like this. When we first met as freshman, he was . . . normal. We were friends for a long time before we started dating. I never saw this side of him until recently.”
I spotted the opportunity to dig up some information, and took it—casually, as I sipped on my coffee—not like an investigator. “When did he change?”
“This summer?” She shrugged. “I didn’t really see him much since I went home to Missoula and he went back to the East Coast where he’s from. We agreed to keep the summer casual, and pick up where we left off when we got back, but . . .”
“He came back a different guy?”
She nodded glumly. “I noticed right away something was wrong. He was . . .”
“Violent?” I swallowed hard as I waited for her answer. Depending on what she said, I might risk exposing my identity just so I could watch the asshole bleed out on the floor.
“Once.” Her eyes focused on the table between us as if she was ashamed to look at me. When she finally looked up, I saw a spark in her eyes. “It was the only time . . . until he caught me after work that night.”
I coul
d accept that. At least she had dumped him instead of sticking with him. Far too many girls stuck it out with guys like him. I admired her a little more now for having the courage to end an abusive relationship. Though she was still dealing with it . . .
But not for long. The moment we caught this fucker alone, he was done. He would be out of the picture, and out of her life.
I glanced up to find him staring at me from the doorway. He looked smug, like most vessels did before they realized their secret identity was no longer a secret. He considered himself superior to me. If only he knew just how wrong he was. If only he knew how much he underestimated me.
The grin I returned promised that he would find out soon enough. He didn’t look as worried as I knew he should before he pushed out the door and into the street.
“Anyway . . .” Thea continued with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m done with guys like that.”
“Abusive assholes? I sure hope so.”
“No, I mean . . .” She shook her head at me, a faint smile breaking the surface. “The cocky, self-assured, popular guys with a wild streak. I’m done with them.” She jabbed a determined finger in the air. “And no more bad boys.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “Bad boy? Really? Mr. Polo Shirt?”
She lifted a shoulder. “He had a certain reputation on campus. It’s a little different now, but yeah, he gave off the bad boy vibe at times.”
“If you say so,” I muttered. “I’m not going to argue with you about that, but I am a little upset about your declaration to swear off all bad boys as a result of one negative experience.”
She glanced up to meet my faux indignant expression with a flirty smile. “They’re not worth the trouble they cause.”
I rolled my head with a dissatisfied groan. “I’d have to disagree. Some bad boys are very much worth the trouble.”
“Some?”
“At least one that I know of.”
Her gaze travelled over me, and I know she admired what she saw from the slight flush of her cheeks. I decided to take advantage of that and build on it. God only knew why. Perhaps it was her swearing off guys like me. It could have been the challenge. Or it could have just been her.
“There’s nothing wrong with having a little passion in your life,” I said, then added with a casual shrug, “Or in some cases, a lot.”
I sipped on my coffee while I let her stew over my words. Her eyes flashed briefly, and I knew she got what I was hinting at. Good.
Or not good, because I still didn’t know what I was going to do about her.
“True. Passion is important.” Despite the nervous tremble in her voice, she held her shoulders high as she countered me. “But I also need dependability.”
“In bed, or just in general?”
Now it was her turn to nearly choke on her coffee. Her eyes were wide when they lifted to mine.
“It’s a legit question,” I defended. “You need a guy that satisfies everything, and on a regular basis. He’s got to bat at least a .750.”
Her chin lowered as she gulped down a sip of coffee. “What about honesty, integrity, intelligence . . .”
“You can’t overlook heat, chemistry, or attraction either.”
She stared at me from across the table, and I wondered if she felt it—the chemistry—like I did. Her chin lifted defiantly. “Then I want the whole package.”
“Good luck finding that guy,” I snorted.
“He can’t exist?”
“He might exist,” I relented, “but it will take forever to find him. What will you do in the meantime?”
“Some things are worth the wait,” she insisted.
I nodded thoughtfully. “But what if you ran out of time? What if the world ended tomorrow? Wouldn’t you rather take your chances on a guy that at least guaranteed you some passion before you died?”
She swallowed hard. I knew from her reaction that she was drawing parallels to me at that exact moment—exactly as I had intended. Little did she realize that in the process, I’d developed a boner the size of a Cadillac in my pants. I was hard as a rock thinking about all the ways I could show her just how much heat we could create together. The more I tried to convince her, the more convinced I became . . . and the more I wanted her.
I painfully wanted her. All reasoning and thoughtfulness—what little I had—had abandoned me by now. My eyes fixed longingly on her supple mouth when she threw her head back with a laugh.
“Wow,” she finally breathed. “Congratulations. You win the trophy for best pick-up line in the history of pick-up lines.”
“Yeah?” My eyebrows shot up with a flirtatious wiggle. “Did it work?”
Her head shook softly as she looked down at the table. It worked alright. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
“You do have a unique set of skills,” she admitted.
“You have no idea.”
She nodded pointedly at her cell phone on the table. “You also have about five minutes to get across campus for your class.”
I quickly reached for her phone, grazing her hand in the process, to glance at the time. She was right, of course. I had class with Thompson in five minutes. But I didn’t care about that nearly as much as I cared about the fact that she knew I had class in five minutes.
“How do you know where and when I have class?” I grinned as I sat back in my seat. “Who’s the stalker now?”
Her head tilted to the side. “Considering I was with you on your excursion over the weekend, and am in my fourth year on this campus, I have a pretty good idea where your class is. No stalking going on here.”
“Good point,” I mumbled as I chugged down the rest of my coffee.
When I finished and stood, she rose with me. Suddenly, we found ourselves sandwiched together between the tables in the narrow corner of the café. I anticipated the bolt of palpable electricity that passed between us when our arms brushed. I anticipated the tightening of my pants in the crotch.
I did not anticipate the foreign sensation of a fish swimming around in my stomach as I peered down at her.
She stood close enough for me to smell the fruity blend of her shampoo. Close enough for me to watch her eyes dilate under my gaze. Close enough to kiss her slightly parted lips if I so desired.
I desired it alright. I even leaned in a little bit and hooked my arm around her waist to pull her closer. Her gasp of surprise provided the ultimate opening for me to take advantage of, but for some stupid reason, I didn’t do it. For the first time in my life, I exercised self-control.
“Just so you know, Thea,” I murmured, “I wouldn’t hate it if we found each other in the same place at the same time again sometime soon.”
“Is that another innuendo?” she breathed. Her eyes fluttered as her gaze lowered to my mouth. With each shallow breath she took, my grip tightened to bring her closer.
Kissing her now would be easy—perhaps one of the easiest moves I had ever made. A quick glance over her shoulder, and into the curious eyes of the coeds watching us with interest, forced my decision.
It took every ounce of strength I had to not kiss her. It took tremendous effort to drop my arm and let her slip out of my grasp. Spurred by the flash of disappointment I saw on her face, I answered, “That was a suggestion. One I hope you consider.”
I left her with my infamous panty-melting grin. Though it damn near killed me to walk away now, I did so without looking back, because it killed me more to know that no matter how badly I wanted her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t have her.
11
THEA
“I’m sure all those murders are a part of it, Thea. If you’ve never believed us before, believe us now. It’s not safe for you there . . .”
I held the phone to my ear as I locked my car door and started toward the rear entrance of The Nest. Walking through this door still creeped me out, but I was late for work and didn’t have the time to drive around in search of a parking spot on the street. My mother’s
constant nagging for me to come home because the apocalypse hammer was about to drop didn’t help.
“Mom, I understand your concern,” I returned diplomatically. “These murders are freaking us all out, but they are not related to some end of the world conspiracy. There’s a lunatic on campus. That’s all. The antichrist isn’t hiding in a college town as he waits to end the world.”
“Thea—”
“Mom, I’ve got to go.” I tossed my purse into the locker with my name on it in the employee lounge. “I’m late clocking in. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Just come home, Thea,” my mother pleaded one last time.
I sighed into the phone. “I’ll visit soon. Okay? That’s going to have to do for now, Mom. I’ve got a full plate this semester.”
“Yes, yes, that would be great. Just—”
“I have to go. I love you.” I disconnected the call before she could say any more, and deposited my phone in the locker alongside my purse.
I hated to be short with her, but she hadn’t given me any other option. Recently, she’d made the thought of calling her cringe-worthy. I suspected the only thing that would get her off my back was a visit.
But I would not stay, no matter how much she begged me to.
I had a life in Bozeman, and responsibilities that I was needed here for. One of which I needed to take care of for the next four hours.
“Oh, thank God you’re here.” The other waitress working the evening shift sighed when she saw me push through the doors from the kitchen.
“Sorry, Steph. I got held up. We busy?”
“Not yet. Two tables. Nothing bad.”
I gave her a skeptical once-over. “Then why do you look like you’re about to fall over?” The words were no sooner out of my mouth when thick tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Steph. What’s wrong?”
She palmed away the tears as they fell and sniffed. “They found Brent’s body yesterday.”
“I know. I heard.” I wasn’t aware that Stephanie knew Brent Robertson, Kyle’s fraternity brother, well enough to be this torn up over his death. Regardless, I placed a comforting arm on her shoulder when she lowered her head.