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“Sophie,” Mom calls out.
“Yeah?” I call back.
“It’s for you.”
What’s for me?
I almost ask, but then I realize she obviously means the door.
What?
That’s no less confusing. I don’t have a single friend in this town, and if I did, they’d be text-only friends, people I see in class or around campus, definitelynotpeople who would show up unannounced at my mom’s house.
A sick feeling hits my gut, but the thought is too depraved. There’s no way.
Slowly, I slide my page of notes between the pages of my textbook and close it so I don’t lose my place.
He’s not here,I tell myself.
There’s no way he’s here. How would he even know where I live? Where would he get the audacity to show up on my doorstep after last night?
I know it’s not him. I know it can’t be.
I still half expect to see him when I round the corner and see the front door cracked open, Mom standing there chatting with whoever is on the other side.
I try to gauge who it could be by her posture and smile, but Mom is so friendly. Just because she’s visiting with them doesn’t mean she knows them. She gets chatty with the pizza delivery guy, and I have to drag her away before our food gets cold.
My heart pounds as I near the door.
Despite all logic, I expect to see the Viking who has haunted my thoughts since last night. He asked me to dinner or a movie after our encounter in the escape room, so honestly, would showing up at my house be such a stretch?
I’m almost anticipating seeing his roguish smirk when I get to the door, so when I finally get there and pull it open, I feel Mom’s smile like the sun on my face, but my blood runs cold.
“Surprise!” Mom says cheerfully.
Oh, I’m surprised, all right.
I was prepared for a twisted Viking when I opened this door, but I was not prepared for a ghost.
Chapter Eight
Sophie
Dylan Prescott stands on the front porch next to our old friend Elle, her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail and a tentative smile on her face.
On the one hand, he looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him. His curly dark hair is a little disheveled, but there’s a natural charm to that, and his brown eyes are just as warm and inviting as they always were. He has this way of looking at someone and instantly putting them at ease.
Only it doesn’t work on me anymore.
It’s a deception, one I’m all too aware of at this point.
Since I’m not speaking, Mom laughs a little uneasily. “Well, you two come in.”
“No.” I find my voice just as everyone is about to move. I can’t believe they have the audacity to try to come into my house.
A confused frown flickers across Mom’s face.
Without another word or a moment’s hesitation, I slam the door in their faces and turn the lock.
