“Look at you, smitten. I haven’t seen that face in a while.”
She was right, wasn’t she? I couldn’t remember the last time anybody or anything had sparked my interest. George popped back into my head with a faint,You gotta have faith. Maybe itwasfate. Maybe this was bigger than just some guy I met at a party.
The chances of that being true were probably close to zero, but also—it was nice having something to daydream about.
And his lips had definitely looked daydream-worthy.
It wasn’t stalking.
No.
Stalking was bad. Illegal, even. This wasn’t that.
This was just…thinking about him. Because the fantasy was nice. I mean, he was nice, so this was the only natural conclusion.
I even started going back to classes. Not all of them—just here and there, whenever I thought I might run into him again. He never showed up at another party. Asking Colin about him crossed my mind more than once, but that felt like stepping over a line. I hadn’t talked to the guy in over a year—was I really going to call him up and ask if his friend was down for a good time?
No, didn’t feel right.
But.
Hehadasked me to come play. And, god, that man looked even better in the daylight. So see? It really wasn’t stalking. He just looked like a fucking dream, knees bent, ready to catch, set, serve. Laser-focused. Locked in.
Okay, so maybe I could keep crashing practice. Because I actually didn’t remember just how fun playing this stupid game was, and the guys on the team were cool. Even the coach was fine with me just stepping in.
Plus, it was just one game.
Until it wasn’t.
Until I actually talked to him—trying my best to keep my cool—and then the most miraculous thing in the world happened: I caught him looking at me. Atme. And he waslooking.
Atticus was giving me that stare I’d seen a million times before—but never, not once in my life, had it made me feel like this.
It was soft and assessing, and its intent wasn’t sleazy. It didn’tfeelsleazy. It was almost reverent—and wasn’t that something?
So I came back.
Over and over again, because I couldn’t not. Not when song after song kept invading my brain. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. My head had been on mute for so long I almost felt like the music had never been there in the first place.
He wasn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to, but I kept trying. The guy either had some serious trust issues or just generally didn’t like people. The only two he looked remotely relaxed around were Colin and Ezra—and even then, he was stiff. I wondered if he ever truly let loose. Just opened up and unraveled with anybody.
Maybe he wasn’t out yet. Maybe he was still figuring himself out. He was young enough for that to be true. And that should’ve been a turnoff.
Itshouldhave been.
But he kept looking back at me, so really, it was his fault I couldn’t quit the stalking.
Nope. Not stalking.Observing.
I’d get that spider-tingly feeling on the back of my neck, and sure enough, when I turned, his pale eyes were fixed on my arms or calves. If they were ever on my face and our gazes met, he’d avert them quickly, and a flush would creep up the back of his neck.
So why did he keep running away?
It didn’t make sense. And it only made things worse, because it seemed like hewantedme to chase him. Like he was waiting for it.
It was a total mindfuck.
And what for?