Page 46 of The Stalker Snafu

“Her name’s Jenny.” He sighed wistfully. “She’s a freshman drama major who started coming by the cart last week, and I haven’t been able to keep my foot out of my mouth since.”

I poured a coffee for him. “Is she single?”

“I have no idea. I can barely string two normal sentences together around her, so I haven’t gotten around to asking yet.”

“Just let me know if you want any advice. I hooked quite a catch myself.”

Scott groaned, making it clear my dating advice was the last thing he wanted.

“Is it eight o’clock yet?” he asked. “Won’t you be late for class if you don’t leave soon?”

I set the coffee beside him before pulling my phone out of my leggings waistband and wincing. Two minutes until Music Theory. “Shoot. Okay, you’re on your own for an hour. I’ll see you after class!”

Carefully disposing of the Super Straw, I plucked my macchiato off the ground and hopped over a sullen Scott.

I rushed up the stairs of the music building to class, only to be stopped the moment I stepped into the classroom.

“Miss Fox,” Professor Slade called from the front, crooking a long finger at me. I picked up my pace, sidling up next to his desk. His eyes peered at me from behind horn-rimmed glasses, gaze cool. “Should I expect any further bribery attempts?”

I winced, kicking myself for forgetting to talk to my mother about that earlier.

“No, not anymore,” I lied quickly, making a mental note to send my mother an email explaining things. All I could do now was offer a sheepish smile as I fiddled with my coffee cup. “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to block my mother’s number and email… just in case?”

“Already done,” Slade assured me, turning back to his papers.

I recognized a dismissal when I saw one, and I slipped away to grab a seat. If he’d blocked her, maybe I didn’t have to tell my mother anything after all. Small win.

The class passed slowly, and it took effort to pay attention to Slade’s lecture when Noah’s seat sat empty next to me.

I wondered what he had planned in New York.

CHAPTER 17

A Rendezvous

On Friday afternoon, I holed myself up in the campus library to study like a good little student.

Okay, so I mostly played the coffee café game on my phone, but I did flip through some Music Theory flash cards Noah had made for me.

I was determined to get an A on our next quiz. Despite Blaise’s accusation that sleeping with Noah had gotten me an A on the midterm, it’d actually taken a lot of blood, sweat, and near lethal amounts of coffee.

Though Noah did make some impressive flash cards, so maybe I was unconsciously using him for those.

But that was something my future therapist could worry about.

Westcroft’s library rivaled the Beast’s. Four floors filled to the brim with books and breathtaking architecture. The inside had the sacred aura of a cathedral with its woodwork and high ceilings. My mother would be envious of the crown molding alone. Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, with cozy study nooks scattered throughout.

I couldn’t get enough of the smell—a warm mix of aged paper and leather bindings.

So fancy.

I’d found a table on the second floor, tucked away from the foot traffic and nosy librarians. They claimed to be helpful—but a couple evil librarians were known to hunt you down like ravenous dragons if your shoes so much as squeaked against the hardwood floor. One time when it rained, my Keds squelched with every step, and one of the library assistants legitimately made me fear for my life.

With her level of animosity, you’d think I’d stabbed someone and gotten blood all over their precious tomes.

I flipped through cards covering Music Theory terms and rubbed at my nose, then paused. There it was again—the itchy nose, prickling at my nape, and a tugging in my gut.

… I was being watched.