Page 19 of Delicate Storm

If she was standing in front of me, I’d give her a death stare. But since she’s not, the man walking toward me in the lobby is bearing the brunt of my gaze.

And now he’s stopping.Dammit.

I hold up my phone to signal that I’m busy, but he doesn’t take the hint, asking me if I’m Paige from the Internet, his voice in a whisper. I shake my head no but he doesn’t believe me. And when I take a step out of his way, he follows.

A shiver runs through me, and I’m about to tell him to politely fuck off, when a man comes into view, with a newly familiar glare, and my pulse spikes.

“Oh my God!” I gasp out loud. “I’m sorry,” I tell both the stalker guy in front of me and my mom on the phone. “I just saw a long-lost friend,” I lie. “I have to go.” I walk away withouta backward glance and lower my phone, my mom’s rushed “What?” the last thing I hear before I hang up.

My lips pull into a smile andIbecome the stalker, following my new “friend” until he stops in front of the elevator, only then calling out, “Window-seat guy!”

To my surprise, he turns, his expression doing nothing to hide his shock.

What are the chances?

I glance over my shoulder to make sure my stalker hasn’t followed and breathe a sigh of relief as I rush to catch up to the only person I know in this city other than my dad.

And he just unknowingly came to my rescue. Again.

I owe him a drink.

CHAPTER FIVE

Easton

Istand frozen as the woman from the plane jogs over, her expression full of excitement. “You turned?” she asks, the surprise in her voice mimicking my thoughts.

I did turn. But why? I have no idea, because… “You called me window-seat guy?” It’s like I recognized her voice.

“Yep. That’s my name for you.” She beams and if I was any other human, I’m sure it would be infectious. “Got a problem with it?” She raises an eyebrow and pops her hip, making my lips twitch. But I don’t smile.

“Would it matter?”

“Nope. I like it so it’s going to stick until you give me something else to call you. Anywho… What brings you here?” She bites her lip and it’s not my mouth that twitches this time. It’s been a while for me, and my cock is in need of some attention. Attention it’s not getting from a stranger I met on a plane. “Were you looking for me?” she adds.

“What?” I snap out of my thoughts and frown. “Why would I be looking—”

“I’m joking. Since you have bags of food in your hands, I’m guessing you either live here or you’re visiting someone. Someone that isnotme.”

“Good guess.”

“You’re not going to tell me which one, are you?”

“Nope.” Though I am curious as to whyshe’shere.

“Okay. Well, I live here.” She laughs, answering my silent question andwhat the hell are the chances?“I’m on the twelfth floor,” she continues. “I just moved. Sort of. It’s a beautiful building. Don’t you think?”

“It’s alright. I guess. Anywho…” I use her term though my tone is significantly less peppy than hers. “I need to get this upstairs.” I point toward the elevator and fake a grin. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Paige,” she offers.

I didn’t ask, but… “Paige. Nice seeing you again,Paige.”

The doors open and I move to step into the elevator, hoping to get away, but when she follows, I stop, an awkward tension settling between us. I stare her way and she raises her hands into the air. “I’m not following you. I was going out for cookies but then there was a creepy guy following me so I thought I should go home. I live here. Remember?”

“Yep. I do.” And now I’m stuck on the creepy guy following her.Is the fucker still here?I glance over my shoulder, searching, and completely forget she’s still standing in front of me until she speaks.

“Are you looking for him?”

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