My eyes darted down to my desk. I couldn’t look at him and survive it.
He’s still waiting for me to respond, I realized after a second…when he still hadn’t pulled away. My throat felt tight, though, and it was like my mind had gone blank. I finally managed a weak smile and a small nod, staring at the scratched surface of my desk instead of him.
His voice slipped in quietly, like he was sharing a secret meant only for me. “What’s your name?”
For a heartbeat, my entire body lit up. I’d imagined this moment so many times, him asking, him wanting to know me. My lips parted, breath catching, ready to give him everything.
But then it hit me…yesterday. His voice. The words he’d said.Clingy. Desperate. Pathetic.I could still hear them,feelthem, in fact, like they were a piece of me now.
If he knew it was me, the girl who’d been watching, following, memorizing every piece of him…he’d hate me. He already did.
The light inside me flickered and went out.
I swallowed, my throat tight, the words coming out barely louder than a breath. “It doesn’t matter.” They scraped their way out of me, rough and splintered, leaving something raw and bleeding behind.
But he didn’t look away. His head tilted slightly, a crease forming between his brows like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. He leaned in a little closer, voice softer this time, almost disbelieving. “What did you just say?”
My hand trembled against the desk. I pressed it flat, forcing myself to stay still, to hold it together even as every part of me threatened to crack open right there in front of him.
“Mr. Adler.” The professor’s annoyed tone cut through, and the moment broke. Matty straightened, muttering an apology, and the class snickered. I wanted to disappear with so many eyes on me.
But his quiet didn’t last long. He started tapping the pencil I’d given him against the desk, the sound soft but relentless, like a pulse I couldn’t block out. Every few minutes, his voice found me again…low, teasing, impossible to ignore.
“Come on,” he murmured once, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath. “You don’t look like a Sarah.”
Another time, “You’re really not gonna tell me? Not even your first initial?”
Then, with a grin I could hear even without looking, “Guess I’ll just call you my hero for now.”
Each word tugged at something inside me, loosening the threads I’d spent the last twenty-four hours trying to tie down. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t answer. That I wouldn’t give him the part of me that still ached to belong to him.
Then he spoke again, softer, more thoughtful this time. “Didn’t know my hero was gonna be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
The world tilted. My heart stopped, my breath right along with it.Beautiful?I hadn’t even brushed my hair. I’d thrown on a sweatshirt, dark circles under my eyes, the remnants of yesterday’s tears probably still smudged on my cheeks.
My mind scrambled to make sense of it. He couldn’t mean it. Not really. Maybe hedidknow who I was already. Maybe this was his revenge. A sick joke to get back at the stalker who’d been pathetic enough to follow him for months.
My stomach turned cold. I stared straight ahead, not daring to move, not daring to breathe, every part of me caught between wanting to disappear and wanting him to say it again.
By the time class ended, my nerves were shredded. Every second of that hour had been a slow, exquisite kind of torture…his arm brushing mine when he shifted, the scrape of his pencil against paper, the sound of his voice when he asked a question. It was too much stimulation, too much proximity, too muchhim.
I’d spent months watching him from a distance, building him up into something untouchable, and now he was right there, talking to me, looking at me, saying things that didn’t make sense. Compliments that short-circuited my brain. Every rule I’d made for myself was unraveling, and I couldn’t keep up with the pieces falling apart inside me.
I fumbled my things into my bag the second the professor dismissed us, my hands shaking so hard I dropped my notebook twice. I could barely breathe, let alone think. I just needed out, needed to get away from the weight of his attention that pressed down on me like it knew every one of my weaknesses.
But, of course, he followed, falling into step beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey,” he said, softer this time. “Thanks again. For the pencil.”
I froze again, my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, every word I might have said dissolving before it could form. My brain scrambled for something, anything, that wouldn’t sound like I was coming apart inside.
Finally, I managed to breathe, my voice barely steady. “You already said that.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” His grin curved easy, but there was something heavier underneath it. “It was the only thing keeping me from turning in a blank page. That deserves at least a name in return.”
I bit my lip, the corner of my notebook digging into my fingers as I fought the urge to smile, to give in, to let him pull me back under.
“Matty!”
