Page 369 of Biker's Virgin


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“I tried calling him yesterday,” Jason admitted, “but I couldn’t get through. Maybe it was because of the storm.”

“It’s more likely because he is so busy,” I said. “I’ve barely seen him since I arrived.”

“He hasn’t spent any time with you?” He seemed surprised by that.

“Why would he?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “We were never really friends.”

“Aw, come on,” Jason said. “You guys got along so well.”

“It was a different dynamic,” I reminded him. “You were always with us.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he demanded, and I realized that the possibility of a romantic entanglement between Tristan and myself had never even crossed his mind.

“He’s just really busy,” I said, brushing off the topic. “I don’t blame him. And anyway, I’ve made friends.”

“Have you?”

“Alani is one of the managers here, and she’s really great,” I said.

“Well, I’m glad you’re making friends and enjoying yourself a little.”

“Me, too,” I agreed.

“What are your plans for tonight?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I might just watch a movie and head downstairs for a light dinner.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m jealous.”

I laughed. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“I do,” he sighed. “One day.”

I shook my head. “Talk later?”

“Sure thing.”

I left the bedroom and headed to my own personal living room where the entertainment unit was set up, complete with massive flat-screen TV and a built-in collection of movies and TV series for my viewing pleasure. I don’t know what made me do it, but I settled on horror. An hour into the movie, I was seriously regretting my decision. The roaring thunderstorm just outside didn’t help matters, either.

I was starting to psyche myself out. I started to see eyes everywhere, watching me with deadly intent. I started to hear screams hidden underneath the thunder. I started to imagine people hidden in the dark corners of the suite, waiting for the perfect moment to attack me.

Dad had always referred to my imagination as fanciful; Mom had called it overactive, while Jason maintained that I was simply dramatic. At the moment, I was forced to agree with all three assessments. And yet, I still hugged a pillow to my chest, unable to shake off the fear.

I sat up straight when I heard a hard rapping at my door. “No,” I told myself firmly. “That was just your imagination. Stop being so silly.”

The second time I heard the rapping, it was louder, and I was suddenly unsure. I turned off the movie, deciding that it was a silly move on a stormy and lonely night. Then suddenly, the phone rang, and I screamed in shock. With my heart thudding in my chest, I rolled my eyes at own silliness and picked up.

“Hello?”

“Molly?”

“Alani?” I said, recognizing her voice.

“Are you alright?”

“Uh…sure,” I nodded. “Why?”

“Because you’re not answering the door and I’m sure I just heard you scream a second ago.”

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