“I found some things,” I say, the words coming out too fast. “About him. His family. Monroe Industries.”
“Okay, you can tell me all about your deep-dive into Mr. Darcy’s family history over pizza,” she says, looping her arm through mine. “Honestly, for a guy you claim to hate, you’re spending a lot of time thinking about him.”
The walk to Gino’s is a blur. I tell her everything—Monroe Industries, Asher, the hockey incident. I expect her to be horrified. Instead, she seems…intrigued.
Gino’s is an oasis of warmth and noise. We order a large pepperoni and find an empty booth near the back.
“Okay, so he’s a rich kid with a temper and a mysterious past,” Chloe says, summarizing my frantic explanation. “Kins, that’s basically the plot of every romance novel ever. It doesn’t mean he’s a villain. It just means he’s complicated.”
“It’s not complicated Chloe, it’s a pattern,” I insist, my frustration mounting. “The review session, the lab, the hockey game… he’s everywhere.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to get your attention!” she says, exasperated. “Guys do stupid things when they like someone. It’s not a conspiracy, it’s a crush.”
As the word “crush” leaves her mouth, a chill snakes down my spine. A sudden, terrifying premonition. My gaze lifts from Chloe’s face and sweeps across the crowded restaurant.
And there he is.
Sitting in a booth. Alone. A half-eaten slice of pizza on the plate in front of him. A black hole in the center of the room, sucking all the air, all the warmth, all the life out of it.
He looks up, and his eyes find mine across the crowded room. There is no surprise in them. Just a calm, knowing certainty. A look that says,I’m here. Of course, I’m here.
“No way,” Chloe whispers beside me, a grin spreading across her face. “Okay, that is… seriously bold. Talk about making a move. He followed you here.”
Her excitement is a bucket of ice water in my face. She sees a grand romantic gesture. I see the walls of my cage being built around me.
My first instinct is to run but the buzzing energy inside me ignites into pure, white-hot fury.
“No,” I say, my voice low and dangerous.
I stand up and walk directly towards his booth. The entire restaurant fades away. There is only him. I stop at his table, my hands clenched into fists.
“What a coincidence,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
He takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “I like their pepperoni.”
“Stop it,” I hiss, leaning forward, my hands pressing flat on his table. “You know what? Stop following me. Stop showing up everywhere I am, stop stalking me.”
He doesn’t reply. Instead he moves with a sudden, fluid grace that catches me off guard. He stands up from the booth, forcing me to tilt my head back to keep eye contact. He’s taller than I realized, a solid, imposing presence that blocks out the rest of the world. He leans in, invading my space, his heat radiating onto my skin. My mind screams at me to step back, but I’m frozen.
His mouth is inches from my ear. His voice is a low, intimate whisper that slides directly into my bloodstream.
“Tell me something, Kinsley. When you’re alone in your room, do you ever think about my hand on yours in the lab?”
The question hits me like a physical blow. The memory; the warmth of his fingers, the strength in his grip, the way he held me in place flashes in my mind.
He continues, his breath warm against my skin. “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like if I didn’t let go?”
A shiver cascades down my spine, a wave of involuntary goosebumps erupting on my arms. It’s a sickening, terrifyingreaction. A primal response to a predator, a traitorous acknowledgment of his proximity. My body betrays me completely.
“I think about that kiss all the time. Do you?” he whispers against my ear.
He pulls back just enough to look at my face. A slow, cruel, devastatingly handsome smile spreads across his lips. He sees the goosebumps on my arms, he sees the panic in my eyes. He sees my frozen, parted lips; he knows he’s won.
“Enjoy your dinner,” he says, his voice back to a normal volume.
And then he just… leaves. He turns, drops a few bills on the table, and walks out of the restaurant without a backward glance. Leaving me standing there, trembling and utterly dismantled in the middle of Gino’s Pizzeria.
The sounds of the restaurant rush back in. I’m still standing there, processing, my heart hammering against my ribs when Chloe rushes to my side.
