After Brody leftme in peace the night before, I’d had trouble sleeping. I attempted my usual tried-and-true method of relaxing and lulling myself to sleep, but even my trusty vibrator wasn’t cutting it. I couldn’t get Brody’s irritating face out of my head.
The memory of that kiss beside the pool, when his hand was on my throat, returned to me again and again. Then when he’d been here, in this room, so obviously wanting me but not laying a single fucking finger on me… it played over and over in my head. But in my fantasy, he hadn’t knocked my hand away. He’d let me touch him as much as I wanted. He wasn’t like the men I’d hooked up with since the incident. Not at all. The only encounters I’d had in over a year had had very clear dynamics. I’d been in charge. But Brody was different. Even when I’d kissed him at the party, he’d soon turned it around, taking control from me, wielding it effortlessly. Was that why he was stuck in my head? Because he’d been slipping right under my defenses? Because I’d survived it?
Sounds from the bathroom drifted my way, and I opened my eyes. Someone played music and ran the water, loudly.
I checked my alarm. Five fucking a.m.
I groaned with annoyance and turned over, sticking my entire head under a pillow to block out the sound.
I managed to get back to sleep, and lunchtime came and went.
I rolled around in bed for a while, unwilling to get up and face the day, until Winter messaged me about another party. Saturday had arrived. The popular days for socializing on campus were Thursdays and Saturdays.
Did I want to go to a party tonight? Not at all. Did I want to see Winter? Absolutely. Was I sure there would be alcohol? Also, yes.
I replied that I’d come, then got out of bed. I was planning on taking a shower, as long as I could get both bathroom doors to lock, when the doorbell rang below.
I padded out of my room and into the hallway.
Arthur, John’s assistant, was talking to someone at the door. I caught a glimpse of blue uniforms and the distant screech of a police radio.
The police, here?
I went down the stairs a little, peering through the gaps in the banister.
“Ah, Selena, there you are. Could you entertain the officer while I go and fetch something Mr. Sinclair left for me to give him?” Arthur speed-walked away.
I reached the bottom of the stairs and tugged at my PJs nervously. Why hadn’t I gotten dressed right away? Instead, I was lazing around like a bum.
I headed to the doorway and pushed it open a little.
“Arthur just went to get something,” I said to the solo officer standing outside.
The guy was tall, broad, and looked like he should have been in a ’90s boyband. Wholesome and clean-cut.
He jerked and then gave me a quick scan. “I’m sorry, and you are?”
“I’m—I live here now,” I settled for saying. It would be a cold day in Hell when I called Mr. Bellend or his father my family.
“Is that right? I’m sorry, but you seem so familiar to me. Have we met before?”
Police Doll Ken stared at me so hard I was sweating.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
The officer stared at me a moment longer, as though still trying to place me. The silence got awkward. Finally, Arthur reappeared.
“Here, this is the alarm information we are supposed to share with local police,” he said. “You can’t be too careful, even in quiet places.”
“Hade Harbor isn’t as quiet as you’d think, honestly. I suppose everywhere has its bad elements,” the officer said and then stuck his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “I’m Officer Preston. Drew Preston. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
He shook Arthur’s hand and then extended his to me.
I gave a small wave instead. “Selena.”
“Selena,” he repeated slowly.
I didn’t like the way he’d said it, like he was fitting puzzle pieces together.
