Page 54 of The Stalker Snafu

I’d much rather be with you right now.

I stared at the screen, only growing more confused.

“So why aren’t you?” I whispered before nibbling on my thumbnail.

“Why aren’t I what?” Teresa asked beside me. Her elbow dug into my ribs as she leaned into the bushes.

I sniffed and pulled on my metaphorical big girl pants, blinking back any tears Noah didn’t deserve. But I couldn’t resist another text, my thumbs flying across the screen.

Emma

Not having fun in New York?

Noah got a new drink as my text went through, and I watched his expression like a hawk when he checked the screen. He placed his glass down and smoothed a hand over the front of his tux before typing back.

My phone vibrated moments later.

Noah

I’m at an event you’d call stuffy. Escargot is on the menu, but I prefer eating hot fudge sundaes with you.

I took a deep breath, my eyes trailing over to my abandoned tray of snails. Noah wasn’t lying about the party he was at, but why would he tell me it was in New York? My stomach twisted into a knot. The only logical explanation was maybe he hadn’t wanted to feel pressured to invite me. Oliver Bishop’s cocktail party was the last place a girl like me belonged—despite all my mother’s failed attempts to make me fit in with this crowd—and I undoubtedly would’ve embarrassed my boyfriend in front of his finer friends.

Another text came in while I struggled to find solid ground.

Noah

I’ll call you later tonight?

I stared hard at my phone for a good thirty seconds, almost wishing I were hallucinating. Maybe my overactive imagination was playing a cruel prank. But when I looked up, Noah was still standing by the bar, watching his screen and waiting for my response.

A burst of anger quickly overpowered the confusion the longer I stared at Noah, and something inside me snapped. Stumbling over Teresa to get out from behind the bushes, I took off across the grounds—picking up my tray of snails as an afterthought. A few had managed not to go overboard.

“Emma, wait⁠—”

A breeze swallowed the rest of Teresa’s whisper-shout as I marched forward with Noah in my sights. He was heading back to the buffet table, and I wove through the happy partygoers to meet him there. Anger fueled my steps, and I would’ve bet steam was billowing from my ears by the time I came within the last few yards of him.

I pulled out my phone and smashed the button to call Noah.

He looked at the screen on the first ring, stopping near Julian and the other man.

It rang again.

Then a third time.

I pushed the phone harder against my ear, circling to come up behind Noah just as he finally answered.

“I can’t talk right now,” Noah muttered into the phone, and I shivered when his voice echoed in my earpiece.

I came to a halt just a step behind him and cleared my throat, unclenching my jaw long enough to respond. “Really? Not a good time?”

CHAPTER 21

A Scene

Time screeched to a halt as Noah’s shoulders stiffened. I stared at the back of his head, with my heart hammering against my rib cage, until he slowly turned around. His gaze pinned me in place, and I swallowed hard.

He looked really good in his tux, and I hated that I noticed that.