They’re both out of view now, though. I’ve wandered so far into the store, stupidly seeking out the source of this feeling, that I’ve instead found my reflection in the storefront windows.It’s dark out with little lighting, and, of course, this is where I feel it the strongest. A sweep of the parking lot and the sidewalk outside proves there’s nothing, but then the flicker of a street lamp draws my attention. I lean in closer, expecting to see something, but I’m caught off-guard when a tall shadow as dark as the night sky appears in front of the window.
Formed, yet featureless, it stares at me. My knees tremble, and I want to jump away, but I can’t move. This shadow, this figure, it’s what followed me at Dax’s. I don’t know how I know; it’s just a feeling. Cold creeps into my veins the way the frigid winter air has claimed the cool autumn nights. A deep shiver rolls through my body.
“He doesn't really seem like your type.”
I stumble backward with a loud scream, startled by Jill’s voice. I place a hand over my chest, the furious beat of my heart racing underhand. “What?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” she says, crossing her arms. “I was just saying that Gray doesn’t seem like your type.”
“Are we still on this?” I groan. “We’re not dating. He’s just a friend down on his luck.”
Jill frowns. “Whatever you say.”
Straightening, I cast a glance back at the window, but there’s nothing there. The feeling of being watched has gone, too. The only eyes here are Jill’s. For a fleeting second, I wonder if I imagined it.
No, I didn’t. There’s no way.
“So, how’s David?” Jill asks casually. There’s always an edge or a bite to the way she says his name.
“It’s Dax,” I correct her. “And he’s fine. You know him, he lives and breathes String Theory.”
“Please, I've known that twerp way longer than you have. I can call him David,” she says and rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s not as edgy as ‘Dax.’” I emphasize his name with air-quotes. The first time I ever said his real name, he was face deep between my thighs. The second it left my mouth, he popped up with the most annoyed look on his face and corrected me. On the spot. Not the hottest moment we’ve had, but definitely one of the funniest.
Jill snorts. “Sounds like something he’d say.”
I nod and focus on sifting through the hangers of the nearest rack to distract myself. There’s history between them. I’ve never been one to pry, but sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me. After Dax and I started up our ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement, I told Jill and Emma about it, not knowing they knew him. Jill was immediately pissed off and ignored me for a week. According to Emma, they had dated back in high school and all through college. But between the two of them, I couldn’t get a straight answer on who broke up with whom.
Dax said he broke it off, and Jill said she broke it off. They both said it was ‘amicable.’
Eventually, Jill decided to talk to me again, and ripped me a new one for being so casual with him. The lecture went on and on about the kind of guy he is, how possessive he is, and how controlling he is with the women he dates. Dax wasn’t happy when I questioned him about it all the next time we met up. Amicable my ass. There were definitely some unresolved feelings between the two of them, and I had no interest in getting involved. So, I stopped asking questions. The only thing I wanted from Dax was fifteen minutes out of my thirty-minute break, bent over his desk or laid up on the couch in his office.
“So, how have you been?” she asks, her mood shifting to a lighter topic. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I’ve been fine.” I pause on a lace onesie and trail a finger down the fabric absently. “Ronnie showed up.”
“Well, fuck. How long’s it been?” Jill maneuvers closer.
I find her dark eyes watching me. She knows just as much as Dax, and we’ve shared more cartons of ice cream over this than I remember. “A little over a year.”
She raises a thin brow. "Did you two talk?"
"No, I mean… technically? I didn’t even see her. Someone just told me she was there.”
“There? You mean the club?” Jill’s surprise is obvious, and it’s no wonder. She knew Ronnie, too. They’d been friends while we were dating, and she even knew how much Ronnie and I fought about dancing. “You’re joking.”
“No joke.” I shake my head. “She’s engaged, too. To Lilah.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I take my phone out and pull up the image Verity sent. It’s damning. There’s nothing left for Jill to question.
“What the fuck!” She takes my phone and pinches the screen to zoom in. Her disgust and shock are plain as day. “Who celebrates their engagement at a strip club?”
“You’d be surprised.” I know a number of bridal parties that came through in the last week alone.
Jill holds my phone back out for me, and I take it. “So, where were you if you didn’t see them?”
