Page 12 of Jealous Stalker

But it also feels… like someone’s watching over me.

And maybe that’s what scares me most.

But who though…?

My brain flickers like an old TV turned on after a long time. Half-formed memories rushing up like sparks from a fire.

A voice. Low and rough.

“Shh, baby. I’ve got you.”

My breath catches and I close my eyes, desperately chasing the memory. Strong arms. Warmth. The scent of cedar and something darker. Leather, maybe.

And eyes. God—eyesthat burned into me like theyknewme.

Was it a dream?

No. Itfeltreal.

I reached up and touched my temple, where I swore I remembered fingers smoothing back my hair. My heart pounded louder. My thighs squeezed together instinctively and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the image to stay.

If this really happened…it should freak me out.

The thought of someone beingin here. Touching me. Carrying me?

But how’s that even possible?

Simple answer? There isn’t one. So I either have to be hallucinating it all—not surprise there since I’m in a dream state anyway—or…someone broke in?

Someone broke in and didn’t attack me?

How….and why? No. That’s crazy. Completely insane.

Except… itdidn’tfeel crazy.

It felt careful. Protective. Like I was a treasure someone had watched over. Someone who couldn’t help but touch. Gently. Reverently.

And now I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jules said yesterday.

“Someone who just knows what you want…”

A little thrill raced down my spine.

What if I already have someone like that?

I gulp down a lump of fright. What if that person isn’t as good-intentioned as I’m hoping…dreaming they are?

What if I’ve picked up a psycho stalker?

I stood up slowly, glancing toward the window. It was locked. I hurry down the hallway, check on the door—locked. I checked the alarm again.

And then something else caught my eye.

MyEAT. SLEEP. HEALcoffee mug. On the counter.

Clean. Dry. Waiting.

I used it last night. Planned to wash it this morning just for something to do. And right next to it? A spoon. And the hot cocoa I keep on the top shelf, tucked away where I can’t easily reach because otherwise I drink it too fast and ran out too quick.

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