Page 17 of Jetmir

Nothing could have.

I could still remember the way my breath caught when she appeared outside the dorm. The way I'd actually tapped my chest, convinced jet lag had finally gotten the better of me.

And then she had walked straight into me.

Where did you appear from?

I almost smiled.

She hadn't even really looked at me.

She'd simply frowned, rubbed her forehead, and kept going, that damned e-reader still in her hand.

And I stood there watching her walk away, forever changed.

A woman I'd intended to use to get under her brother's skin had just dismissed me without a second thought.

Apparently, my ego had survived worse.

My common sense hadn't.

Because I followed her.

I didn't know where she was going. I hadn't known why I cared. I only remembered the strange pull of watching her disappear between the trees, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading.

I could still remember the feeling of it—the absurdity of me, following a woman through the woods because she couldn't be bothered to look up from her fucking Kindle.

I shook my head and reached for the pen.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Even then, I knew something had shifted.

I just hadn't understood what.

She eventually stopped at a clearing and settled onto a swing. I remembered staying back, hidden in the trees, watching her.

Waiting.

For someone to show up.

For some explanation that would make following her seem less insane.

Nobody came.

She just kept reading.

And I stayed.

Hours passed, and somehow I didn't leave.

I remembered being jealous of that stupid device because it had her attention and I wanted it.

That should have been my first warning.

Instead, I told myself I was curious.

Curious about the girl who was nothing like the family she'd been born into. Curious about the girl whose laugh had lodged itself in my head. Curious about why I couldn't seem to walk away.