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I stand there a moment longer, listening for any signs that he’s coming after me. Listening, and mostly hoping that the door will swing open and there he’ll be, sorry for trying to lie to me, wanting to make it up to me, telling me to come back inside and that everything will be okay.
How can one person hold so many conflicting emotions simultaneously and not burst into flames on the spot? How can everything be so messed up and so unspeakably amazing all at once? My mind reaches back to a few hours ago, to Peter’s strong hands on my thighs, his face between my legs.
Just then the door does open, and I’m not ready. I feel like I’ve been caught out and that Peter can see exactly where my thoughts have been. But if that’s true, he doesn’t admit to it and simply says, “Here.” He doesn’t even look surprised that I’m still standing there.
I edge closer to get a better look at the small note he’s handing me. A number’s scrawled untidily across it. His number. I swallow hard, but make no move to take it.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes clearly expressing the sincerity in his voice. “I wanted to protect you, that’s all. I didn’t want you freaking out over something that could be nothing.” He steps over the towel to meet me out in the hall and tucks the piece of paper into my purse.
With him standing so close all of a sudden, things like rational thought are becoming difficult. His sweet musk fills my head, making me slightly dizzy. It doesn’t help that he’s not wearing a shirt.
“Thanks.” It comes out all strangled, so I clear my throat and try again. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for storming out like that. I just—”
“Had good reason, because I was kinda being a dick and should’ve handled it better.” A flicker of a smile breaks the stern look of concern he’s been wearing this whole time, and I can’t help but do the same. I know my weak attempt at a smile probably does little to hide the terror inside me. This new information did more than shake me up a little. Some crazy person was actually inside my apartment—might even be out to kill me!
I feel a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, as if Peter can sense my fear. “It’s going to be okay,” he says.
They’re exactly the words I wanted to hear a moment ago, but for some reason I don’t feel any better. “You don’t know that.” The slight tremble in my voice gives me away, nice and clear.
“Yes, I do.” His hand floats up to brush my cheek, and I lean in to the warmth of it. “I’ve got my best men on it, the kind of guys you want in your corner on a case like this, trust me.”
And I do trust him. But I also know that’s not enough.
The harsh reality of my life breaks down whatever protective force field he’s conjured up, and I slowly back away.
“Emily—”
“I have to get going,” I say, holding onto my purse a little too tightly, but it’s the only security I have right now. “I have class, and then I have to figure out where the hell I’m going to stay because I can’t exactly go back home now, can I?” He starts to say something, but I’m on a roll. “Oh! And
I almost forgot—there’s lunch with my mother, too, which is a whole other kind of hell for me to live through on top of everything else. I mean, God forbi—”
“Stay with me,” he says, making sure to raise his voice above my hysterical tirade.
The sound of his words make the ones tumbling out of my mouth instantly stop. I blink stupidly up at him. “What?”
He runs a hand through his already tousled hair, suddenly sheepish for whatever reason. It’s adorable. “I mean, it makes sense for you to stay here, with me,” he says. “Just until this whole thing is over. I’m not on this guy’s radar like your friends might be. And if he’s been watching you the way we think he has, it rules out your mom, too.”
Move in with my mother? Oh, God. “Fine,” I say, pretty much immediately. No more convincing needed here, thanks. And then, feeling like I’ve come across a little too eager, I also add, “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
And I start off down the hall, out of Peter’s realm of protection and into a world where someone wants to love me to death.
My first two classes of the day go by quickly, and surprisingly without any problems. At first, I thought it would be a waste of time with the way I was feeling, but I actually managed to focus in Biochem and Anatomy went over pretty smoothly, despite Mr. Hortenson’s best efforts. That man, first thing in the morning, should come with a warning, especially when taken on an empty stomach.
My own stomach growls as if on cue, and I regret not grabbing the opportunity to have breakfast with Peter. Even after what happened, the idea of waking up with him, sitting down to eat with him, just the thought of doing any old ordinary thing with Peter by my side sends a rush of warmth through my chest. I was mad at him before, but that’s in the past now. I truly believe that everything he’s done has been to protect me. What I can’t decide is if he’s doing it out of duty as a cop, or is it something more?
I hope it’s the latter.
“This is where I take my leave, young Padawan,” Mark says, as we come up to Heather’s Business Ethics class. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll survive on my own for three minutes. And thanks again for walking me, even though I took you way off course for your next class.”
“Forever at your service, my liege.” He makes a deep bow in the most dramatic fashion before giving in to laughter.
“Oh, shut up, would you?” But he’s got me going, too.
Mark’s usually a goofball, but today it’s ramped up and I know it’s for my benefit. So, there’s my silver lining in all this creepy stalker stuff—discovering my friends are even more amazing than I thought. And I already thought they were pretty cool to begin with.
“Keep it up and you’ll definitely be late.”
