Page 215 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 7

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I didn’t wait for her to respond before I threw my arms around her. I was just so relieved I didn’t have to talk to a stranger today. My best-day-ever streak was continuing.

Chastity laughed. Then she pulled back and gave me a devious smile. "I wanted to come see what drags you all the way out here to midtown twice a week. I have to admit, I'm disappointed so far. I was expecting there to be a pizza and ice-cream buffet. Or at least some hot guys."

Oh God, does she somehow know about my stalker?I kind of liked having this one thing all to myself. Although if he were a serial killer, it would be good to give Chastity a heads up. I bit the inside of my lip. Telling her could wait. He hadn’t even done anything dangerous yet. Just those sultry looks. Mmm. "Sorry to disappoint."

"So what am I missing? Is it the instructor? Is he #gorg or..."

That was definitely not it. But if I admitted there were no hot guys here, she’d leave. And I was super happy she was here. Islammed my locker closed. "Come on, class is about to start." I grabbed her arm to pull her through the sea of models.

Chastity shook her head. “Spin classes are so 2010. If you really want a good workout, you should come to my nude yogalates class sometime.”

Never.

“But for now, we should go back to my place, get some takeout, and watch whatever show you want. Burgers on me.”

That was such a tempting offer. Especially because today had been amazing and I had so much to celebrate. But I needed this. After my separation from Joe, I’d resolved to focus on finding myself. And I wasn’t going to find myself at my favorite burger joint. “But you haven’t even seen the hot instructor yet.” I raised both my eyebrows. He wasn’t actually hot. But Chastity didn’t need to know that yet. Hopefully once she was in there, she’d just finish the class with me. Although I never really knew what to expect with Chastity. She’d probably flirt her way out of the class somehow.

“I knew it,” she hissed. “Look at you, you can’t stop smiling. I knew you came down here all the time to ogle some hottie. I’ll be your wing girl and try to get his number for you.”

I was smiling because I was finally divorced. And I’d confirmed that my stalker was stalking me. And I’d gotten my freaking dream job! Oh, I badly wanted to tell Chastity that I got the job. After all…she’d hooked me up with the interview. We’d been talking about getting to work together ever since graduating from college. It was going to be so much fun. But if I told herright now, she’d definitely pull me out of here and say we needed drinks to celebrate. And I wanted to get my spin on. I’d tell her right after we were done.

“This is perfect,” Chastity said. “I keep telling you, you’re going to feel so much better after you get laid.”

I laughed. She was going to be wildly unimpressed by my spin class instructor. If only she could somehow get the number of the guy I was stalking. I shook my head.Hewas stalkingme. And I didn’t need a wing woman when it came to my stalker. I needed a restraining order. The guy was clearly obsessed with me. In a really good way.

I knew what I needed to do. And it had nothing to do with getting a restraining order. I needed to be my own wing woman. On Thursday at 8 o’clock I’d walk right up to my stalker and introduce myself. I just needed to figure out the particulars. And do some research to see if I could fit a fire extinguisher in my purse just in case I accidentally recreated the events ofthe incident.And maybe do some light stalking of my own to make sure he’s not a serial killer.

Stalker Problems - Chapter 3 - Under Arrest

Tuesday – April 4, 2023

One thing I’d learned since Joe and I separated was that I actually liked exercising. Well, maybe not the act of exercising. It felt like slow torture. But I liked the results. I liked that it made me look younger and more toned. Yeah, I wasn’t a supermodel like these women. But I felt really good about myself now after years of Joe putting me down. And each time I came to spin class, the workout got easier. I could actually feel the corners of my mouth tick up as I started spinning faster.

I wanted to believe I was doing this completely for me. But my stalker was in the back of my mind all the time. Did he notice my transformation? Did he like it? I tried to shake away the thought, but it was impossible. It was like I was living in a constant daydream.He stares at me too.

The instructor yelled profanities at us for motivation and I spun faster.

I didn’t care at all that the instructor wasn’t a hot dude. But apparently Chastity did. Because we only made it about two minutes into the class before Chastity screamed bloody murder and jumped off her bike.

"I don't know her," I muttered as all my fellow spinners turned to look at us. But as Chastity rolled and flopped around like a soccer player who had just received a fake life-threatening injury, I began to get concerned. More about her mental health than her ankle, but still concerned.What the hell was she doing?I got off my bike and knelt by her side while the entire classwatched. "You okay?" I asked. I hated everyone’s eyes on us. I was never going to live this down. Now I’d have to sell my membership…

Chastity winced and grabbed at her knee. "My ankle," she cried. "I think it's broken." She looked down and grimaced. “Definitely broken.”

"You're holding your knee."

She quickly repositioned her hands. "Can you take me home?"

"Is she okay?" asked the instructor, even though it was pretty clear that Chastity was faking her injury. She knew I hated when people made a scene. Why was she doing this to me?Oh right…I’d lied to her about the instructor being hot.Payback was a bitch.

"She'll be fine," I said. Together, the instructor and I pulled Chastity to her feet and helped her back into the locker room. Then we got an Uber back to her apartment. She stayed true to her story that her ankle was broken throughout the ride, but to me she seemed much more concerned with touching up her makeup and texting. I craned my neck to try to see who she was talking to, but she was quick to block my view.

"You're being weird," I said.

"You'd be weird too if you had a broken ankle. This shit hurts." She puckered her lips and stared into her handheld mirror as she checked out her freshly applied lipstick.

We were just going to her apartment. Why was she putting on lipstick? “Then shouldn’t we be going to the hospital?”

“What kind of insurance do you think I have? No. I just need some ice. Oh, ice!” She started texting again.