Page 14 of Tangled in His Game

Sebastian returned, didn’t he?

But why now? He’s supposed to be away because his college isn’t anywhere near here, and he probably has a new girlfriend.

I yelp because my phone buzzes in my hand, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Are you awake and thinking about me?

What? I don’t recognize the number.

I bet you are. The way you were staring at me...

A photo pops out, and I gasp.

It’s a photo of Victor. He’s lying in bed, shirtless. The way he looks at the camera is so damn naughty, like he’s fully aware of just how hot he looks with his hair all effortlessly messy and his perfectly shaped abs.

Are you touching yourself?

What the fuck? How did he get my number? How does he know I’m awake? I see a blurry clock in the background behind him. The pic wasn’t taken right now. And there’s only one way he could know I’m awake just about fucking now.

It was him.

He was in my house, wasn’t he? He followed me home, and then he somehow got in through the window, stayed hidden, scared the shit out of me, and then escaped back through the window.

If he got his hands on my phone, he could’ve messaged or called himself while I was in the shower or in the kitchen to get my number.

Is he fucking insane?

But I’m actually a little relieved. Better the devil you know and all that, and at least it’s not Sebastian.

I type him a message.

How did you get my number?

What does it matter? I always get what I want.

Stay away from me, or I’ll call the cops.

Does that even scare him? He’s filthy rich, and he could probably make any charges go away. That’s why he’s not afraid of anything.

What if I wasn’t alone at home? What if I’d attacked him or shot him or something? I can’t believe it. Unless he’s somewhere safe, and he paid someone to do it.

I’ll need to make sure all windows and doors are completely closed and can’t be opened just like that.

Before Victor can respond, I block his number.

Maybe I should call the cops anyway, but do I need all that drama? I don’t think anything’s missing, and there aren’t any signs of someone breaking in. They’d just call me crazy and say I had a bad dream, especially if I accused my popular classmate of sneaking into my house to get my number.

Who the hell would believe that? Not evenIfully believe it. I don’t want to scare my parents either. Once they’re back, I’ll tell them crime is on the rise in the neighborhood and that we should be more careful. I can say someone broke into my classmate’s home.

I scroll back to Victor’s photo and chew on the inside of my cheek. What’s wrong with him? I bet he did it all to prove that he can. He wants to mess with me, and I don’t know why.

But I’m too restless and scared to go to sleep again. So I don’t know how I’ll make it to my class in the morning. And I’ll have to see him there and his annoying, stupid face.

I run my hand through my hair.

I glance at the photo on my screen and groan. Then I flip my phone so I no longer have to look at his icy blue eyes.

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