Page 48 of The Stalker Snafu

I frowned. She didn’t need to sound so happy about it.

“Noah’s at work,” I said, crossing my fingers under the table in hopes she would turn around and leave.

No such luck.

With a hum, she slid into the seat across from me and propped both elbows on the table. “Good. That gives us a chance to catch up. How’s mother dearest doing?”

Heat crept up my neck. “I told her to stop calling you⁠—”

“No, no. I love chatting with Charlotte.” Blaise smirked. “I’ve learned a lot from her about little piano princess Emmaline Fox from the-middle-of-nowhere Kansas.”

I went still, and Blaise tapped her manicured nails against the table.

“With your old phone and worn Keds, I never would’ve guessed your parents were loaded,” she added. “Is that how you hooked Noah? By playing the poor little charity project even though you’ve secretly got a mansion and staff back home?”

I pressed my lips together, wishing I could disappear. My mother sure had painted a lovely picture for her. “Can we please not do this today, Blaise? I’m just trying to study for our next quiz.”

She held up her hands, palms out. “It was only a question.”

I was tempted to pack up my things and leave, but that nagging in my gut reared its head again.

Scratching my nose, I scanned the area. A friend had joined the students by the windows, the other girl’s nose still buried in some books. But a small movement made me do a double take at the stacks across from me—just as a pair of piercing dark eyes glanced up and met my gaze from above a row of books.

My chest tightened.

I knew those eyes.

They’d watched me before.

“You!” I whispered, shooting out of my chair and wincing when its legs screeched against the floor.

The librarians wouldn’t like that.

Blaise jerked back. “Me?”

“Not you.” I waved her off, pushing down a rush of panic. There wasn’t time to grab my pepper spray. The eyes had already vanished from behind the shelf, and I scrambled around the table. “Excuse me. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Fueled by determination and a few shots of espresso, I took off in the direction of my stalker.

This ended now.

Unfortunately, playing the stalker reverse-card wasn’t as easy as last time. When I reached the spot he’d been peeping from, creepy stalker had already taken off to the other end of the aisle.

“Hey!” I whisper-shouted, chasing after him. “Get back here.”

When I reached the end of the stacks, the area was empty. I rushed to the next aisle—just in time to catch the back of his head as he rounded the corner at the end.

I gave up on being quiet and yelled after him. “Stop right there, stalker!”

My voice echoed through the sacred library, making me wince as I renewed my chase. I banked right at the end of the row, finding no sign of him again⁠—

An arm shot out of the next aisle and yanked me off my feet.

One second, I’d been pursuing my target, then the next, he’d slammed me against one of the shelves. A big wall of muscle pinned me to the bookcase, while a huge mitt clamped over my mouth.

Four inches from my face, my stalker’s unwavering dark gaze squinted down at me and into my soul.

All I could do was blink back, wide-eyed, as a squeak escaped.