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10

LIA

“Amelia Whitlock, are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Victoria waved her hand in front of me.

A week had passed since that night—a week of apathy in which I had done nothing and told no one.

I didn’t even know why that was the case.

I could have told my father, Leo, or Victoria, but there was a part of me that was afraid they might look at me like the police. That sounded unreasonable. They loved me. They wouldn’t look at me like that, but what if there was no more sign of the stalker? It would feel like—to everyone—that I had made up the story, wouldn’t it?

And so far, my stalker hadn’t made any other appearances in my apartment or in my life.

It was as if he never existed in the first place when I knew that wasn’t the case. He was real. He was just… not here.

I could be optimistic and say he got bored with me and had moved on with his life, but even I could hear the lie in my thoughts.

Perhaps that was what I was waiting for before I told anyone else—more proof.

“Are you okay?” Victoria asked, her eyes roaming over my face and probably taking note of the bags under my eyes.

I forced a small smile. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She narrowed her eyes on me. One thing about being so close to another person was that they could almost always tell when I was lying.

“You haven’t been yourself. And when was the last time you’ve gotten a good night's sleep?”

Probably a week ago. Or perhaps longer than that, long before I first realized I had a stalker.

“Just some insomnia hitting me lately,” I explained with a casual shrug. She didn’t appear to believe me.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she said softly. I looked away when a burning sensation hit my eyes.

“I know,” I answered her, and I did know. I could tell her anything. I just…

I didn’t even know what was going on or how I was supposed to approach it. I didn’t even know if the man was coming back. If he was coming back, he would have done so already, right?

Or perhaps this was a part of his plan.

Or maybe I was going crazy.

That had to be it.

My loneliness had finally caught up to me, and there was now a break in my reality.

I had finally lost it.

Victoria moved in closer to me, and a slight tinge of annoyance flared in her eyes.

“You were saying something to me, weren’t you?” I guessed. I had tuned her out again, and I didn’t even notice. She crossed her arms over her chest. I shot her a sheepish smile and moved to put in her order for a latte, turning my head away so she couldn’t say anything. Not that it would stop her.

Luckily, the front door opened, distracting her.

“Holy hell,” Victoria said under her breath. “How fucking hot.”

I peeked over at her to see her eyes were laser-focused on the man who just walked in.

I placed her cup of coffee in front of her and ran my hands down my apron. “Wipe the drool off your chin,” I teased.

She narrowed her eyes playfully at me before making a show of wiping her chin. I laughed as I headed over to the front counter to help the man she couldn’t take her eyes off of.

I hadn’t looked at the man fully, which was why I was so surprised when I came face-to-face with the stranger from the bar. I gasped slightly and watched as his lips curved up in a small smile.

For a moment, I couldn’t say anything. Words were like the butterflies I’d chased with Caden when we were little—fluttering away and always out of reach.

“Can I order?” He didn’t sound annoyed as he asked. If anything, the amusement was very much clear in his eyes and his voice.

His voice.

Fuck, but his voice was something else. Deep and addictive. Like black coffee with a hint of caramel.

I nodded.

He tapped his fingers on the counter three times as his eyes moved past me to the huge hanging menu board.

“An Americano. Black.”

“Coming right up,” I said, unable to stop the breathless quality from seeping out of my voice. What the hell was wrong with me?

I shook my head and moved away to get his order in, wondering if I should start believing in something as silly as fate. This was the third time I saw the man in as little as a month. What were the chances?

My heart thudded heavily in my chest, and for a moment, I forgot all of my problems.

I was just a normal woman, living in New York, with normal woman problems, and things just didn’t seem so bad. My hands shook as I closed the lid on the man’s coffee cup and brought it over to the counter. He was standing there, waiting for it.

And Victoria wasn’t too far away.

She caught my eye and winked at me just as I placed the coffee cup on the counter.

I felt myself deflating on the spot. It wasn’t like Victoria was doing anything to me by showing interest in a man I had no claim to. For all she knew, I was still very much into Brody, and this man, this strangely beautiful man, was nothing to me.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the man said, placing a twenty on the counter for me before picking up his cup. I watched as he made his way outside the coffee shop, his broad back to me as he took in the view. I could see his arm movements, indicating he was taking a small sip of his coffee and pulling out his phone with his other hand.

Was he texting his girlfriend? There was no way a man who looked like that didn’t have a girlfriend, which meant Victoria might not have a chance with him. I didn’t know which I wanted less—for the man to have a girlfriend or for Victoria not to have a chance with him.

It didn’t matter.

Victoria had always been the more outspoken one between the two of us. I wasn’t shy by any means, but that didn’t mean I would feel comfortable just approaching a stranger and striking up a conversation.

And I could do nothing but stand helplessly by as Victoria made her way outside and stood next to the man, a flirtatious smile on her face as she pushed her long locks of red hair back over her shoulder.

She was talking to him. I didn’t know what she usually said in situations like this to get men to fall over themselves for her, but it usually worked.

Her eyes were animated until, finally, she stopped talking long enough for the man to respond. I frowned as the happy look on her face soured. She said something back to him, no longer looking like her usual cheerful self from moments before.

The man shook his head and walked away, leaving her standing there, watching his retreat before she turned back to me and headed inside the coffee shop.

“Are you okay?” I asked when she got close to me.

“That man is either gay or taken,” she said flippantly.

My brows rose in surprise. “How do you know?”

“Because,” she said, moving in closer to me. “He said he wasn’t interested in me.”

And she got either that he was into men or had someone else already out of that? He could just be… not interested.

I didn’t say that, though. Victoria wasn’t known for being levelheaded, especially when she felt there was a slight toward her in some way.

With a huff, she grabbed the drink she had left at the counter and walked to one of the corner tables in the shop by the windows. I turned away and wiped the counter, even if it was already spotless.

I wasn’t feeling as deflated as I had been when I watched my friend approach the man, even if I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he could be mine.

If he wasn’t interested in my beautiful, flamboyant friend, why would he be interested in me?

Besides, I had bigger problems than a silly little crush on a stranger whose name I didn’t know.

I had a stalker to contend with.