“He what?” Her laughter garbles her words.
“It’s complicated.” I inhale through my nose. “Remember Kolya? The guy who helped me at the farmers market?”
“The guy who broke someone’s arm? Hard to forget.”
“He showed up at the restaurant. Just appeared. And kept staring at our table. Greg got super nervous and left.”
Her laughter evaporates. “What the actual hell, Chloe? That’s not normal. That’s stalking.”
I flinch. “No, it’s not like that. He just happened to be there.”
“At the same restaurant? On the same night? While you were on a date? That’s not a coincidence, that’s a crime documentary waiting to happen.”
“But then we just talked. And he walked me to my car. And found my phone when I dropped it. And changed my flat tire.” Each sentence sounds more ridiculous than the last. Crap. “He’s…nice. But intense.”
Bree remains silent for a moment. “Chloe Jane Davidson.” Uh-oh, she’s full-naming me. “Are you sleeping with this guy?”
Heat floods my face. “Um…not exactly.”
“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” She uses the nurse voice she reserves for patients who withhold important health information.
“It means we didn’t have sex-sex.” I cannot believe I just uttered the termsex-sex. Also, hiding my embarrassment proves just as challenging as masking the glee I should not be experiencing. “But things happened.”
“You dirty girl.” We both giggle. Then Bree’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, if you’re into him, fine. But play it cool. Make him work for it. Men like the chase.”
I stare at my reflection, mascara wand poised in mid-air. At this point, playing it cool is as likely as sprouting wings. The man’s hands have already been inside me.Coolnessalready exited the building. “Thanks for the advice.”
“And be careful. Seriously.”
We chat for a few more minutes before she yawns and we say goodbye. I hang up, frustrated by her useless clichés about dating. As if Kolya is just another Greg or Mark or Evan. As if anything about this situation fits into normal dating rules.
The memory of last night still causes me to flush, but a prickle of unease threads through the heat when I recall how his eyes stayed cold, even when he touched me. The way he kept guarding and assessing and wanting more than my body.
“Stop it, Chloe. That’s just called real chemistry. That’s what you wanted. Grown-up romance is hot, messy, and a little scary.” I nod for good measure. “You’re just being silly.”
I sound like I’m trying to convince myself. And I am. Because the alternative—that I’ve let someone untrustworthy into my life—is too frightening to consider.
Although, maybe the scariest thing of all is that after a single taste of Kolya’s darkness, I’m already craving more.
An hour later, I pull into the Hobby Hut parking lot, Fred coughing and spitting before sputtering to a stop. Just a quick trip to grab the supplies for Tuesday’s craft project after the fire trucks visit.
The “Stop, Drop, and Roll” dioramas require felt flames and cotton ball smoke. I’m already mentally organizing my shopping list when I spyhimby the row of carts, a storm cloud of dark clothing and stillness in a sea of suburban minivans and motion.
Kolya.Again.
My stomach swoops, then plummets.
First Amalfi’s, and now Hobby Hut. Was Bree right about him stalking me?
My head spins, the remnants of last night swirling around and around.
Did he enjoy himself as much as I did? How could he have when he wouldn’t even let me reciprocate? Though he sure seemed like he was having a good time. Does he want a repeat?The idea infuses my chest with a hot thrill that pulses down to my belly.
I can’t believe he’s here. I’ve seen this guy four times in as many days, and I…don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Should I go? Stay? Confront him?
I sit frozen behind the wheel with my fingers wrapped around the keys. He hasn’t noticed me yet. I could pretend I forgot my purse at home and drive away.
Right as the thought crosses my mind, he pivots.
