Page 11 of Those That Don’t Exist (Hidden Vampires #1)

AURORA

I n the shopping district, on the north side of the river, the cobbled pedestrianised streets are packed.

Every Cafe is rammed with brunch goers, no doubt taking advantage of the sunny day.

It’s pretty cold but the sun is shining and many of the eateries have lit log burners so people can sit in the outdoor spaces lining the shopfronts.

This district is the oldest in the city, a mix of open plazas and winding streets. Shops sell everything you could possibly need, from clothing to homeware, books to specialist food produce.

Claire, Bree and I wander from shop to shop all morning, drinking take out coffee from our favourite place which roasts its own coffee beans.

We’re all laden with bags, several purchases already made. I have more clothes than the dress I’ve picked for the party.

I’ve decided to go as the ancient goddess of the dead, popularly depicted with her signature red hair and metallic gold dresses.

I want the chance to let my natural hair show, and the dress I found is absolutely stunning.

It cost more than I should’ve spent on a costume but with its geometric design, mixture of metallic gold panels and sheer sections, not to mention the slit up to the top of my thigh, I loved it the instant I tried it on.

It was like it was designed for my body, the lines falling in the exact places to show off my curves - well, the ones I had in my glamour form. I still loved it.

And it’s not really a costume dress so I’m hoping to wear it again.

I felt a little guilty over the money, seeing as I now have access to my dad’s life savings but it's the first luxurious purchase I’ve allowed myself.

And I’m bringing in rent from my old house and the shop my dad owned back in my home village so it's not like I don’t already have some income whilst I finish my studies.

“Oooo, I love this shoe shop. They do the best heels,” Claire exclaims, pushing both me and Bree off to the right and towards the brightly coloured store.

“Don't you have a pair of shoes already that go with your outfit?” Bree points out, although she’s smiling. We both know Claire could have five pairs of perfectly good shoes already but we would be going into the store.

“Maybe, but what if they have something better,” Claire shoots over her shoulder as she pushes open the door, causing the bell above to chime.

It's a cute place, bright yellows, whites and oranges wash the walls and there are racks and racks of beautiful shoes. This isn’t the place you come to for an everyday thing. There isn't a trainer in sight.

I browse for a while before taking a seat near the large bay window at the front of the store as I hear Claire ask the clerk for several pairs to try on. Bree’s still perusing too, looking at the flats section.

She puts the shoe in her hand back and comes over to me, taking the seat opposite.

“How are you doing with catching up on the assignment work?” she asks, flicking her blonde locks over her shoulder.

She’s let them out of their usual ballerina bun or dancer’s ponytail today, the thick golden strands nearly reach her hips.

I have no idea how she gets it into such a neat updo when she dances.

“Yeah, I’m getting there. Haven’t started my dissertation yet, but my supervisor approved the plan for it yesterday,” I inform her. We’ve not had much chance to catch up the last couple of days.

“That's great! I’m sure you’ll have the thing written in no time. You’ll soon be ahead of me, my planning is crap,” she says, scrunching her face up.

“At least you’re not having to write a million words, yours is practical.”

“Exactly, I’ve got to choreograph, and then learn, and perform the whole thing!” I roll my eyes at her. She’s the best dancer at the university, she’ll walk it.

I’m not sure why but my attention snaps to the shop window, to the book shop opposite. Standing outside, leaning against the brickwork, is the hot guy I keep spotting round campus. It feels like he’s everywhere.

What are the chances he’d be in this part of town today?

He looks just as good as always, and the sun on his skin gives him a warm toned glow.

He seems more casual today. His jeans are a lighter blue, but they still cling to his clearly muscular thighs.

Underneath his woollen trench coat is a dark red t-shirt, loose enough it hides his sculpted chest - the one I noticed when he was wearing a tight gym top that clung like a second skin to his torso.

I watch as he types something on his phone. Without looking up from the screen he turns and enters the book store.

“Rory, what do you think?” Claire strides over in the highest stilettos I think I’ve ever seen. She walks perfectly in them, the black glittery design catching the light as she steps into the natural light from the window.

“Er…” I stumble, brain stuck on the guy across the street. “They’re very tall.”

I get weird looks from both my friends, which is justified because I suddenly have the vocabulary of a child.

“They look great on you.” I try again, and then keep going as an excuse to leave slips off my tongue.

“Sorry, I just remembered I was going to pick up a book today that the library doesn’t have.

Do you mind if I hop across the street and grab it whilst you finish up here?

” It was an impulsive decision but I wanted to try to, not so accidentally, run into the hot guy.

“Sure, you ok?” Claire asks, giving me a suspicious look.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back in five minutes, can you watch my bags please?

” I say over my shoulder as I head towards the shop door, not waiting for her or Bree to answer.

I step outside and skip across the street whilst running my hand through my hair.

I don't know where this confidence has come from but something in my gut is telling me I need to meet this guy.

I enter the bookstore, named Chapter 54 , and scan the area I can see. It’s quite a large space, but once you get past the display tables you can’t see far into the rear of the store because of the high shelves of books.

I don’t spot him in the front section so head down the middle aisle whipping my head left and right checking each aisle. I reach the back wall to no avail so turn on my heels to walk back up the rows.

Maybe this is stupid. No doubt I’ll get tongue tied as soon as I see him, let alone trying to have a conversation. We’ve not even gotten up close on campus, would it be weird for me to feign recognising him?

I return to the front of the store, huffing a breath out my nose and frowning. Whilst nervous I truly did want to talk to him. In my head, he’s intellectual and interesting, not at all arrogant or over confident like my last dates had been.

I spot the stairs just as I’m about to give up and remember the second floor of the store. How had I forgotten that?

I reach the top and quickly check both passage ways, the second floor is once more filled with tall bookcases so I don’t have a clear view.

I head straight along the wall of the store which runs perpendicular to the rows, looking down each one as I go.

I’m nearing the end and nearly march straight past one where a woman is browsing but something snags my focus, halting me mid-step.

He’s there, almost at the opposite end, heading away from me.

I change course, walking as quickly as I can whilst trying to keep my steps light, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

The woman, as I reach her, squats to look at the bottom shelf so I have to slow down to pass.

The guy has already disappeared around the corner but I hear footsteps to my right so I swing that way as I get to the end of the shelves.

This is ridiculous, I’m practically chasing the guy for god's sake. But I’m not one to give up. I inhale and the faintest scent of a cologne hits my nostrils, it’s like cinnamon and woodland. Is that his scent? Something inside me heats as I lock onto it.

I turn down another stack just in time to catch the swish of the guy’s coat tails crossing the aisle ahead. I speed up again.

A tiny thought sweeps through my mind, maybe he’s noticed this crazy chick chasing him and is running scared. I ignore it.

I turn again at the end, quickly realising we’ve made it back to the stairs. Shit . I should just give up. Deflated, I head back down to the main floor. This is madness. I’m stopping now.

But as my eyes find him outside, passing the large glass window I know I’m not giving up.

The sun shines on his profile. He’s got a smile on his face, a dimple appearing on his stubbled cheek.

His beauty is like a zap of electricity straight through my body, so much so I stumble the last step on the stairs. Real fucking graceful Rory.

Despite myself I head straight to the door and turn to follow him once more. It’s like an instinctual pull, I need to meet him. I get as far as the entrance to the alley next to the bookstore when I hear my name.

“Rory? Where are you headed now?” It’s Claire. Her and Bree are heading across the walkway with more bags in hand, meaning they both ended up buying shoes.

“I was just…” My mind blanks out.

“Did you get the book?” Bree asks.

“Oh, Um…” I stumble. “No, they didn’t have it either. Shall we go get a drink?” I move the topic on quickly as I go to take my bags and coat from them.

“Yes, I’m starving. Let’s hit up that new southern place on the corner and get lunch,” Bree suggests.

Claire looks at me with raised eyebrows, she knows me well enough I fear she picks up that I just lied to her. I just smile back, hopefully reassuring her.

“Sure, let’s go. You can show me the shoes you bought,” I add, linking my arm through hers and tugging her along to catch up to Bree, who’s already a few steps ahead. As we move away from the shadow clad alley I swear the sound of a smooth chuckle fills my ears.

I don’t consider telling Bree and Claire the truth.

I wasn’t sure why. We would normally chat about this stuff, about attractive people we saw, who we dated, wanted to date.

They were my best friends and knew way too many intimate details about my sex life, as I did theirs.

For some reason I just wanted to keep this guy to myself. He was mine.

I snort at the thought, but quickly cover it with a cough.

This guy wasn’t anything to me, nor me to him.

We’ve never spoken. I wasn’t even sure he’d noticed me.

Not like I’d been noticing him anyway, or cataloguing every occurrence like some stalker.

The most interaction we’ve had is one brief moment of eye contact at the gym.

Maybe I should just let it go. If we ran into each other great, if not I was still trying to catch up on work and you know…

generally not fall apart. I was fully aware I still had issues from the accident.

The slice across my chest as I thought of my dad was a very real reminder.

I shouldn’t be looking to involve a guy in my messed-up life right now.

I lock all thoughts of tanned skin and piercing blue eyes away and enjoy the rest of my day with my two best friends.