Page 76 of Nursing the Alpha
23
FLYNN
My stomach buzzed as I tied the laces of my sneakers with shaking fingers. Was today the day? For two weeks, I’d been expectant, hopeful, but nothing. Although I was disappointed, not knowing when also stirred a peculiar kind of excitement.
The apartment felt too still, the tick of the clock loud in the quiet. Outside, the glow of the streetlight bled weakly through the curtains.
This early, the neighborhood was empty.
Good.
I tugged my sweatshirt over my hips and checked the lock on the door twice, then stepped out into the hall. I walked down the staircase, anxious for my morning run.
As I exited, the cold kissed my skin, sharp enough to raise goose bumps.
It was just a run.
Except it wasn’t.
Not when I knew who might be out there. Somewhere.
Watching.
I swallowed, my pulse quickening, and started down the street.
Seth hadn’t said where he’d be. Only that I should take my usual route. That I shouldn’t hold back. He wanted me sweaty, flushed, breathing hard when he caught up.
I’d laughed nervously when he’d said it.
The first stretch of my run was easy. Familiar. Streetlights passed overhead, pools of yellow giving way to shadow and back again.
But the closer I got to the park, the tighter my chest felt.
Was he already there?
Was he watching me now?
The thought made my skin prickle. Made heat curl low in my belly.
When I reached the park entrance, the path yawned ahead, narrow and lined with tall trees that swallowed what little light the streetlamps offered.
I hesitated.
This was the path I hated running alone.
This was also the path where he’d scared me that first time.
My sneakers crunched against damp leaves as I followed the path, quickening my pace.
The woods were silent except for the sound of my breathing and the slap-slap of my soles against the ground.
Snap.
I whipped my head around.
The sound had come from deeper in the trees, sharp in the stillness.
“Hello?” My voice was embarrassingly thin.
