I spin around, taking stock of the people around.
Students everywhere. Grabbing coffee, spilling out of the art store. No one minding me at all.
You’re being paranoid.
To be fair, it’s feeling pretty fucking justified.
I’m being targeted.
I wrap my fingers around the heart stone at my throat and keep moving.
Telling myself that it’s fine.
But feeling anything but fine.
NINE
LIAM
The wrongnessof breaking in pales in comparison to the satisfaction of having been near Kat.
Instead of guilt, pleasure sweeps through me every time I remember the gentleness of her face as she slept.
Inhaling the scent of coffee, I stand by the kitchen window, holding my cup of dark roast, staring out at the people passing by below.It’s deliciously wrong, I think, as I take a mouthful of the hot drink. Kat has become an obsession I can’t let go of.
Not that I want to.
The coffee tastes no different to usual.
But for the past few days, I’ve drank it every morning while thinking of her. Had she noticed the stone when she awoke, or had it fallen from her hand and rolled under the bed? Did she dream of me?
I’m on my second cup when a quick knock jolts me out of my thoughts of Kat.
‘I know you’re in there. Stop ignoring me.’
Ellie.
Oh shit.
A scrap of pale pink cotton hangs out of the coffee machine’s filter basket. I can’t serve Ellie her roommate’s panty coffee. The taste might not be as distinctive as I’d hoped crotch-coffee might be, but the thought of consuming Kat was too much to resist. Explaining why a woman’s underwear is replacing the coffee filter would be too much to bear.
She knocks louder and more impatiently.
‘Just a minute,’ I shout. ‘I’m getting dressed.’
Lies. What I’m doing is tearing across the kitchen and grabbing the panties, tipping the coffee grounds into the bin and stuffing them into my pocket. For a moment, the warmth of them gives me pause as I imagine them fresh off her.
No. No time for that. Answering the door to my foster sister with a lob on would be unforgivable.
I unplug the coffee machine so I can claim it’s broken if Ellie wants a cup.
Taking a breath, I open the door, only to be nearly bowled over by Ellie, who doesn’t wait to be invited in.
‘You need to open a window. It smells in here.’
‘And a good morning to you too, Ellie.’
‘I’m not just being a twat,’ she says with a roll of her eyes. ‘It smells damp.’
