Page 20 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)

Celeste

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana blasts through my alarm and jolts me awake. Groaning, I roll onto my side and rub my eyes as Kurt Cobain screams at me to get my ass out of bed.

Bare feet hit the cool hardwood as I swing my legs over the side.

Routine has always been my religion. It’s safe.

It’s predictable. Running every morning is my pilgrimage, and lately, I haven’t missed a day because I’ve been feeling good.

No cramps. No feeling like I’m going to bleed out on the bathroom floor.

Running clears my head, keeps anxiety at bay, and quiets the restless voices that never seem to shut up .

I pull on black leggings, a sports bra, and a soft gray hoodie before tying my hair into a ponytail.

The memory of yesterday morning surges forward, unbidden.

The audacity of that man, following me like I was some damsel in distress. As if I hadn’t run that same route countless mornings before he decided to grace me with his domineering presence.

It was sweet, Celeste. He was making sure you didn’t get murdered.

Shut up, brain.

I stalk into the kitchen, grab a banana, and peel it aggressively before stuffing it in my mouth.

Headphones in, I flick my playlist to shuffle. Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way fills my ears.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Today, I’m taking a left instead of my usual right. No way am I risking another encounter with Julian. This is my time. It’s the one hour of the day I don’t have to think.

Swallowing the last bite of banana, I head to the door and go down the stairs. The irritation begins to fade as I stretch my legs, warming up my muscles and already looking forward to the peaceful quiet of the morning run.

But as soon as I push open the glass door leading to the street, my feet skid to a stop, and my peace goes up in smoke.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Julian leans against his sleek black SUV with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s wearing gray sweats and a black hoodie. His hair is mussed, but his eyes are sharp beneath lowered brows.

“Good morning, Celeste.” His mouth curves into a maddening smirk that sends a flutter through my chest.

Just looking at him could replace my cardio.

“Go away,” I snap, yanking my headphones out. “Work out somewhere else. Preferably wherever you usually go.”

He stretches lazily, causing his muscles to shift beneath the fabric of his hoodie. “Funny thing,” he says. “Turns out, I like running this way.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You know exactly why.”

I bark out a laugh. “Please enlighten me.”

He takes his time answering, eyes sliding over me like a slow drag. “Because you’re reckless.”

“I’ve run this route every day for months. I don’t suddenly need a bodyguard because you decided to show up.”

“I thought you said this was a free country.”

“Oh, fuck off, Julian.” I fight the urge to stamp my foot. “I run at this ungodly hour specifically because there’s no one around. It’s peaceful and quiet. You are the opposite of peaceful and quiet.”

He raises an eyebrow, amused. “I beg to differ. I can be very peaceful.”

“Peaceful people don’t stalk women on their morning run.”

“I’m not stalking you. I just happen to like this route.”

“Since when?”

“Since today.”

I groan. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good. Then hear this: if you insist on running this way, stay behind me.”

“Gladly.” His voice dips as his eyes wander down my body. “Always love a good view when I’m working out.”

“Asshole,” I mutter, feeling heat rush up my neck.

“Compliments will get you everywhere.”

“A dead body will get me prison time.”

He winks at me. “Romantic.”

I shove my earbuds back in and take off with Dua Lipa’s Physical pounding through the speakers now.

My pace quickens, driven by irritation and something else I refuse to identify.

I can sense him behind me without turning around. His presence is impossible to ignore, like a prickling awareness racing down my spine.

Julian hasn’t touched me since that day in my office. Aside from that one time when I lost all composure and baited him with my cleavage, every interaction since then has been just polite, professional emails. Which, inexplicably, only annoys me more.

My feet pound the pavement, rhythm matching the music as song bleeds into song. Gradually, my breathing evens out and tension eases as I find my stride.

By the time I turn into the park, I’ve almost forgotten Julian entirely… until he’s suddenly at my side.

I tug one earbud free and make the mistake of looking at him. Even in a hoodie, he’s devastating. “Didn’t I tell you to run behind me?”

He scans the area. “And you told me you weren’t trying to get murdered.”

I follow his gaze and spot the questionable figures loitering in the shadows.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I admit.

“Exactly my point. ”

I push harder, nails digging into my palms. “Just stay behind me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I bite back a growl as he drops back a few paces.

We finish in charged silence as dawn paints the sky peach and lavender. Sweat drips down my back by the time we stop outside my favorite coffee shop.

And of course, because Julian Blackwood never learned about boundaries in school, he follows me inside.

“Oat latte,” I tell the barista, ignoring the heat radiating from him.

“Black coffee,” he orders with a smile.

“Like your soul,” I mutter under my breath.

He slaps a black card on the counter before I can reach for mine.

“You know I can pay for my own coffee.”

“I know, and you’re welcome.”

I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they stay in my head.

The barista’s gaze lingers appreciatively on him as she hands him the coffee.

Ask for his number, girl. Take him off my hands.

I cry inside when she doesn’t.

Coffee in hand, I walk toward my building.

“Just so you know,” I say, stopping short, “if you’re planning on doing this again tomorrow, I don’t run on Wednesdays.”

His eyes narrow. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

He pivots toward his car. “See you Thursday.”

“I didn’t say—”

“See you Thursday,” he calls over his shoulder.

I watch him go, frustration simmering .

I only turn toward my apartment when he’s inside his car.

As the door clicks shut behind me, I swear I hear the low, rumbling growl of Julian’s engine speeding away.

I sigh and press my forehead against the cool door.

“Asshole.”