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I didn’t want to text him again. Honestly, I didn’t want anything to do with the guy, our history notwithstanding. He hadn’t looked right the other day, and I was human.
I told my security guy I was cool. His name was Phil.
This is stupid.
A few things in my life were, and though I needed space, I allowed Phil to do his job. He followed me across the quad, people playing Frisbee and hanging out. Again, I kept my head down, but no one noticed me since I’d come to Pembroke. I always wore my shades and my hat.
Me: I know that I said I wouldn’t text again, but just give me something so I’ll stop. I need a status on you, and I’ll leave you alone. Are you good? Just let me know.
Thatcher couldn’t possibly be good. At least, that night. I pocketed my phone, then decided to head back to my dorm. It was a long walk and Phil offered to drive me (or ride the bus with me), but I opted out. I just needed the time to think.
“Give me a text if you decide to go out again today, Miss Davis,” Phil said when we arrived at the dorm. “If you need me, I’m on standby for you.”
Mr. Reed had worked it out where Phil would be staying in a nearby dorm on my floor. Ironically enough, that was a similar situation I’d had my own fake security do.
I nodded at him, and the brawny dude left me as I approached my door. I’d almost gotten the key in the lock when heavy steps suddenly sounded down the hall, startling me.
“Eh. You Aspen Davis?”
Okay, so no one should know who I was here. I made sure of that. I mean, my disguise could be better, but no one should know I was here besides Thatcher.
This guy did as he stalked down the hall toward me and despite my disguise. I had my hoodie’s hood up and sunglasses and hat on. He still clearly knew who I was, though, and I was well aware of how good-looking this guy was. He was also tall and blond. Though, his hair looked bleached considering the dark roots. My mouth parted. “Uh…”
He was on me in seconds. Well, not on me per se, but he came at me so fast that I backed up, dropped all my stuff, and then he kind of was on me. He towered over me, his nostrils flaring, and that good-looking face of his appeared straight-up pissed.
My back hitting the door, I raised my hands. “Whoa?—”
“You’re Aspen Davis, right? Looks like you.” The blond eyed me up and down, and his face was as red as a fucking cherry. His green eyes were also wild. Like he had crazy in them. They narrowed into slits. “It’s been a long time, but I recognize you. Anyway, stay the fuck away from my buddy Thatch.”
Uh, double whoa, and where the fuck was Phil?
Right.
I’d let him go for the night, thinking I didn’t need him, and I’d be naive if I said I didn’t have threats. Of course, I had threats. I was a public figure, but…
My fists curled, fight or fucking flight. I probably couldn’t take this guy, but the body couldn’t help but try to defend itself. He’d mention Thatcher, though, and it took my brain a second to catch up that he had. My mouth parted. “You know Thatcher?—”
“Yeah, I know Thatcher, and you’re going to stay the fuck away from him. I saw the fucking texts you sent him, and you’re going to stop that shit if you know what’s good for you.”
So, this guy knew Thatcher, and he also had access to his phone because he saw my texts to him. What I didn’t understand was why he was so pissed at me, or why he said it’d been a long time since he’d seen me. Like he knew me or some shit, but I didn’t know this guy.
The guy managed to get closer, smelling fresh like the sea. It reminded me of Thatcher in a way, but there was nothing surfer or laid-back about this guy. He was big, and he had beef with me. I certainly didn’t feel safe. Especially with him hovering over me. I put a finger in his face. “I’m warning your ass. I’ve got security and?—”
“Wells, back off. It’s not her fucking fault.”
Another dude made his appearance—well, two. The one who’d spoken was an even larger blond if one could imagine. He wore combat boots and faded jeans and a sweatshirt that said Pembroke Football on the front. The guy behind him was even taller than him and incredibly tan. It was a natural tan like he may be mixed race or Latinx. He also had these pretty kickass curls I wished I had before I loc’d my hair. They breezed behind him like he was a walking shampoo ad, and both guys picked up their pace once they spotted this Wells guy getting closer.
It was like Wells hadn’t even heard the blond, and the guy with the hair pulled him off me so fast. Wells hadn’t gotten to me yet, but he’d been about to.
Wells shoved the guy with the curls. “Back off. You saw the shit she did to him the other night. How he was all sick and shit and fuck that.”
My eyes widened. Thatcher was sick. In what way?
I mean, he hadn’t looked good. Not at fucking all, and he left me so fast. He had after being, well, kind of sweet. He hadn’t been sweet in the woods at all, but that had been the point. I hadn’t wanted him to be sweet, and he hadn’t been.
And then after…
After had been different and nothing I’d expected. I never would have thought the guy who threatened me and overpowered me so many years ago would take care of me. He patched us both up, then got me a bonnet for my hair. He’d even brought food back with him.
