Page 22

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN STALKING ME?

MILA

I’m met with a flicker of sunlight when I peel my eyes open. The fan rustles my curtain, sweeping it aside to let the morning light through. A beam strikes me in the eyes, so I roll over, stretching my arm out. But I’m met with cold, empty sheets.

Apart from the rustled blankets and lingering hint of cologne, there’s no evidence Alex was here last night, so he must have left a while ago.

Turning my nose to the pillow, I inhale his scent to prove to myself it wasn’t all a dream.

The deep, lingering warmth of essential oils and citrus fills my nose.

As if he’s trained my body to react to him, my belly swims with his scent. Dull compared to how it smells directly on him but filling my heart, nonetheless. It manages to be deceptively sweet, yet still has an edge, like him.

I hold my breath and play with the memory of smelling it on his skin while he fucked me. Remembering how he surrounded me while I fell asleep in his arms. Only that smell—only Alex—can seem to chase my nightmares away .

That is, if he isn’t the one putting them there.

Last night, when I opened my eyes and saw him standing over me, gripping my throat without so much as a flicker of apology on his face, I saw the truth of who I’d welcomed into my life. His eyes waged a war between desire and fear, and I wondered on which side of it I would land.

Instead of being afraid, I realized it was the answer I’d been seeking. The scent that hangs in the air. The eyes I’ve felt watching me. Last night wasn’t Alex’s first time coming to my room in the middle of the night; it’s just the first time he let me catch him.

We’ve crossed so many lines, there aren’t many that exist anymore. And as he stood over me, he crossed a final one. Forcing me to face the truth and see who he is, just to find out what I’ll do about it. Alex wrapped his fingers around my throat in a dare. Reject him or accept us.

My eyes snapped open, and his fingers tightened with the silent question.

Run or stay?

Fear or embrace?

Maybe I should have been scared. Or, at the very least, screamed. But Alex’s obsession isn’t the only one bleeding out. When I caught him standing over me, every fiber of my being needed him closer.

After Alex fucked me at Sigma House, he barely said two words to me. He walked me out to my car in silence like I was an itch that had been scratched. I drove to the dorm, feeling used and rejected.

I’m used to people keeping me at a distance and treating my body like a means to an end, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. Space keeps me safe, especially when it comes to the men I let into my bed .

But with Alex, it felt like more than sex. More than touch or desire.

It was possession .

So when he swiftly sent me home immediately after, it hurt.

Until there he was, dragging me from my nightmare, forcing me to face something worse than the demons that haunt me when I sleep. It wasn’t rejection in his eyes, it was fear. He’s as terrified of this as I am, and there’s no escape.

It was that single truth, rolling down my cheek in the form of a tear. Alex is going to break me, and I’m going to let him.

What the hell am I doing?

I bunch my fingers on the messy sheets and pull them to my neck. I tuck myself back into the covers and close my eyes, imagining him still here with me. Wondering what it is that made him disappear before the sun rose.

Fire lashes in my nightmares, but what monsters does he battle?

When I finally drag myself from my bed, I stupidly hope to find Alex somewhere else in my dorm room. I don’t, so I pull out my phone and shoot off a text.

Mila

Nice disappearing act.

Teal

Who disappeared?

Shit.

I meant to send that to Alex, but apparently, I sent it to the group chat.

Patience

It better not be Marco. Please tell me you’re smarter than to go back to that asshole.

Mila

I’m done with Marco.

And letting your brother fuck me instead.

I don’t say that part. Patience will kill me when she finds out what I did with Alex.

Violet

So who is the guy then?

Mila

No one. I was making a joke about the empty dorm room.

Teal

You actually expect us to believe that?

Mila

Yes, because there is no guy.

Patience

Hey, can you do me a quick favor?

Leave it to Patience to divert the conversation away from men entirely.

Mila

What do you need?

Patience

There’s a stack of books in my room. If you’re out and about, can you drop them off at my parents’ house? I forgot to do it before I left.

Mila

Sure thing. I’m headed out this morning, so I’ll take them with me.

Patience

Thanks. You can just leave them outside the door. No need to go in.

Mila

Will do.

Violet

And have fun with your boy toy.

Mila

There is no boy toy.

Teal

Man toy then.

Mila

That’s what Patience is supposed to have. How is the professor anyway?

Patience

I’m going to leave this conversation.

Mila

No, you won’t. You love us too much.

Patience sends an eye-roll emoji, effectively ending the chat. And I’ve diverted the conversation away from myself enough that I hope they let it go.

Setting my phone aside, I eat breakfast and get ready, blasting my favorite playlist since no one is here to complain about it. Only a few students are left in the entire building, and with how they’ve emptied out, I practically have my own floor.

By the time I’m dressed and ready to go, I find the stack of books Patience asked me to drop off and tuck them into a bag.

I lied when I said I was headed out this morning.

I was planning on hiding in the dorm, bingeing movies, and trying not to obsess over having sex with my best friend’s brother.

But I’m too curious to see the Lancaster residence not to run this particular errand.

With everything in tow, I head downstairs to the parking lot. Sunlight sparkles against the remnants of last night’s drizzle on the cars. Opening the backseat, I set the bag of books on the floor just as a car rolls up beside me.

From the quiet hum of the expensive engine, I assume Marco has shown up to continue our argument from yesterday. But when I turn around, I see Alex sitting behind the wheel.

He cuts the engine and climbs out, not taking his eyes off me as I lean against my car to face him. His dark jeans hug his strong legs, and his green T-shirt draws out every fleck of emerald in his hazel eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to sound irritated that he disappeared from my bed this morning.

“Taking a trip to the Lancaster residence with you, apparently.”

I don’t miss that he doesn’t say home .

“How do you know I’m headed to your parents’ house?” My neck cranes to meet his gaze when he stops in front of me. “And exactly how long have you been stalking me?”

Also, why don’t I mind it?

The corner of his mouth tilts with amusement. “My sister told me she sent you on an errand.”

“You spoke to her?” I hate the jealous flare that sparks with my question because of course I want Alex to heal, but I assumed the fact that he was speaking to me was special.

“She texted,” he clarifies, like he senses my insecurity .

I straighten my spine. “And when she texted, did she also tell you how to break into our dorm room so you could watch me while I sleep?”

Alex smirks. “No. That would be Kole.”

I wasn’t expecting honesty in return for my snarky comment. And I really wasn’t expecting Alex to tell me Kole was behind it. Although, I’m not surprised, given how protective he is over Violet.

Maybe I should text her to let her know?

Maybe she already does know.

“As disturbing as that is…” I pop my car door open, hating that I’m not actually disturbed at all. “I don’t need an escort across town. I’m just dropping off a few books.”

Alex doesn’t even bother responding, circling my car and letting himself in.

“Or not,” I grumble, sliding into the driver’s side.

It’s not that I don’t want him to join me, but I don’t need him thinking I’m weak and need someone trailing me like I’m some damsel in distress.

Alex stares out the window as I drive toward his parents’ house. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s tense about where we’re going. His shoulders snap straighter with every turn, and his knuckles are white with how hard he grips his thigh.

Although, I can’t figure out why.

His parents funded his recovery. And, according to Patience, made sure he had everything he could ever ask for after what happened. I always assumed he was close with them, even if Patience wasn’t.

When Alex’s fingers clench for the tenth time, I dare to reach over and rest my palm over his left hand, fully prepared for him to pull away when my skin meets his scars .

Alex flinches at my touch, his eyes darting to mine. But instead of recoiling, he rolls his hand so our palms meet. It’s a small gesture, but the fact that he accepts it doesn’t escape me.

My attention returns to the road as Alex slowly threads our fingers together. There’s always a line with him. One I’m desperate to cross, no matter how much I’m trying to respect his boundaries. And he holds me right on the other side.

When I make the final turn into the Lancasters’ neighborhood, I return both hands to the steering wheel and follow the long road that extends the length of their property.

It’s a good stretch before we finally reach the main driveway, and when we do, a gate looms, separating the property from the road.

My parents never had money like this, so I hope it doesn’t show that I’m out of place here.

The pavement changes to a herringbone pattern of brick, drawing a beautiful contrast to the large iron posts that frame the gate. I’m about to press the button to roll down my window when the gate swings open.

Alex’s jaw tenses as I pull the car forward again.

The driveway is nearly as long as the road that wraps around the north side of the grounds. It twists and turns with the tree line until the house comes into view.

House being an understatement.

It’s four stories tall and fills the center of the property. White brick arches frame every tall window, and the gray roof is brand new. The shingles are almost silver with how they sparkle under the sun.

After going to Teal’s parents’ house once, I assumed nothing could surprise me. But the Lancaster residence makes the Donovans’ seem unimpressive .

I don’t realize I’m frozen until Alex pops the door open and climbs out first. He reaches into the backseat to grab the bag of books from the floor, then circles to open my door.

“Thank you.” I climb out, but he says nothing in return.

Not so much as a nod in response as he closes it and stays at my side while I walk up the driveway. The front door opens before we reach it.

“Alex.” A blonde woman steps outside, and I immediately recognize her as Ursa Lancaster, Alex’s mother.

I’ve seen pictures of her and his father, Gideon, but even if I hadn’t, Patience shares many of her features. White-blonde hair tied in a middle-of-the-skull ponytail, a sharp nose, and a skeptical stare.

Ursa walks toward us. Her pale skin makes her golden eyes seem brighter. When her gaze flicks between me and Alex, her eyebrows narrow just slightly.

I wait for Ursa to rush to her son and hug him, but she stops a few feet away, twisting the cross dangling from her necklace.

“You didn’t say you were stopping by.” Her initial excitement is tempered by something else as she glances around the empty driveway. “It’s no problem, of course. I can have Samantha prepare lunch.”

Alex stares at his mom in silence.

“That’s okay.” I step forward when I realize Alex has no intention of saying anything to her. “We were just dropping off a few books for Patience.”

I grab the bag off Alex’s shoulder, and he does nothing to stop me as I take it. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest, I’d swear he was a statue. One who looks almost irritated as he stares at his mother.

“Patience?” Ursa’s eyebrows shoot up as her attention turns to me. “Of course, she forgot to bring them back herself.”

There’s venom in her tone. Annoyance in her dismissive gaze.

Patience is an honor student. She never gets into trouble. She follows rules to a fault. And now I see where those mile-high expectations might come from.

Ursa grabs the bag of books, grumbling something under her breath.

“I’m Mila,” I offer when she doesn’t ask.

Ursa hums, scanning me from head to toe.

Her gaze skips to Alex, who has tucked his hands into his pockets now, closing himself off even more.

He clearly has no interest in communicating with her, which once again makes me wonder if I’m the first person he’s said anything to since leaving the psychiatric ward.

“Mila…” Ursa repeats my name, drawing it out and narrowing her eyes. “You’re Patience’s friend?”

Her question steams with irritation when I shift closer to Alex.

“Friend and roommate.” I slide my weight from one foot to the other.

This is getting more uncomfortable by the second, and even if I’m usually good at charming people, I get the impression it will take a lot more to impress Ursa Lancaster.

“We share a dorm room.”

“With the Donovans’ daughter?”

“Teal.” I nod. “And also, Violet.”

Ursa seems to like that even less, but I have no idea why .

“Well, we better get going.” I take a step back, needing to put any amount of distance between myself and this awkward conversation. “But it was nice to meet you, Mrs. Lancaster.”

Ursa doesn’t return the pleasantries, glancing back at her son instead. “We’re hosting a dinner on Sunday, Alex. It would be lovely if you could make it.”

Alex doesn’t so much as nod, and she doesn’t pause long enough for him to really answer anyway.

Unlike Patience, who would always speak to her brother like she was including him in the conversation, his mother talks at him.

“Do come by again.” Her comment is to her son, and she doesn’t spare me another glance as she turns and disappears back into the house with the bag of books.

What the hell was that?

When the front door closes, I finally turn to make my way back to the car with Alex walking beside me.

“Charming family you’ve got there.” Sarcasm seeps through my tone.

It might be rude, but it’s not the first inappropriate thing I’ve said to Alex. And like all the other times, my harsh comment is met with mild amusement.

At least now I know why Patience avoids her parents like the plague. I’d be fine never seeing Ursa again, and I’ve still yet to meet their father.