Last night, I finally gave into the urge I’d been denying myself and replayed that night to its fullest extent. I’m not exactly pleased with myself for allowing my need to take over, which eventually led to an orgasm, but waking up this morning in the light of day, I do feel a lot better for it.
I guess all I really needed to do to get over myself was to get myself off.
Typical.
I can’t even find it within me to feel shame, even though I really,reallyshould.
Still, I’ll be keeping his number blocked.
Nothing good can come from interacting with him, and it’s not as though this thing between him and I can ever go anywhere, so I figure it’s best to end it now before anything can really begin.
I sigh and climb out of bed, heading straight for the coffee machine and sitting at the little nook in my tiny kitchen with my sketchpad once it’s ready. I’ve never been a morning person, and I can never function this early in the day without coffee.
Cole thinks that particular thought process is redundant for me, since I like more cream and sweetness in my coffee than is deemed socially acceptable, but this is my one rebellion of doing things the way I like.
Once my mug is drained and I’m a little further with the piece I’ve been working on, I finally decide it’s time to get moving.
It’s Halloween today, and while I told the girls that I was heading home for the weekend, I couldn’t exactly use that lie with my brother. I’m planning on heading over to their cottage for the morning to hang out with the guys before coming back here and hiding away from the world.
Just the way I like it.
The guys will probably be relieved about that too, since it means that they won’t have to worry themselves about my whereabouts tonight.
You know, because I’m a weak little woman who can’t take care of herself and needs the big bad men to always be around to protect her.
I’m on autopilot as I slip into my usual routine of getting ready for the day before grabbing my phone from the nightstand where I left it charging last night. I quickly flick through thenotifications and see a text message that has my blood freezing in my veins and my breath halting.
It's from an unknown number, and after the last time I conversed with the mystery guy—stalker?—I set it so that my texts didn’t show a preview of the message, only the sender.
It could be anyone who’s texted me from an unknown number, so I’m not sure why my reaction is so severe, but there’s a deep, gnawing feeling in my gut telling me that it’shim.
I take a seat on the edge of the bed, my fingers trembling as I swipe across the screen to unlock the phone and see the message. A shocked gasp spills from my lips as I read it, then read it again. I re read it so many times that my vision blurs and my breaths come out in pants.
Unknown
You looked fucking beautiful tonight, love. Did you think of me? Was it me you were thinking about when you gave up drawing and fucked yourself with your fingers instead? I can still remember the way you came apart on my own fingers. I need to feel it again, Gracie. Soon.
He… he saw me. Hewatchedme. But how? How could he have been watching me when I was here, in my room that’s five stories high, alone?
It makes no sense.
There’s no way.
It’s not like he’s ever been in here and had the opportunity to put cameras in here or anything and it’s not like there’s any easily accessible wi?—
My gaze snaps to the bedroom window, which is also technically the fire exit.
He couldn’t have, could he?
I stand on shaky legs and head towards it, my entire body wracking with tremors as it tries to fight the panic building inside of me.
The curtain is pulled over, but there’s still a small crack letting just an inch of natural light into the otherwise dark room. It’s rare that I even open the curtain if I’m being honest, since they don’t clean the windows nearly as often as you would expect for the amount that they have us paying for accommodations.
My fingers meet the material of the curtain, and I shakily pull it back, my heart in my throat and my pulse pounding my ears when I see letters written onto the window.
I probably wouldn’t even be able to see them if it wasn’t for the dirt and grime covering the outside of the window, but I can.
I can see them.
