Page 35 of Just for Fun
There’s a long pause, which only serves to cause me more anxiety.
“Now that you mention it,” Kyle chuckles awkwardly. “This may not have been the best idea I’ve ever had. I just…” He sighs into the phone. “I hated seeing you leave earlier. You said I should call, so… I’m calling.”
I push a hand into my hair. “I meant for you to call me on my phone, Kyle. Not show up at my house late at night. Especially since I didn’t even give you my address. How did you know where I live?”
“Well…” He clears his throat a couple of times. “I know my way around a computer. And honestly, you were not hard to find, which should really concern you. All I had to do was enter your phone number, and I got all your information, down to your date of birth.”
“What?” The more he talks, the worse it gets.
“Yeah, it’s all public information. Unless you block it,” he adds.
“How do I block it?”
“Open the door and I’ll show you,” he teases.
I instinctively walk across the living room, and, before long, I find myself standing in front of the door. Apparently, Kyle is on the other side of it, and he’s expecting for me to let him in.
“Just so you know,” I tell him, hand on the door handle. “That my brother is a first responder, and he knows a lot of people. If you hurt me, he will find you. And he will make you regret it.”
“I swear I’m not here to hurt you,” he promises. The serious tone of his voice gives me no choice but to believe him. “I will give you my own address so you have it,” he continues. “And you can show up whenever you want to.”
Biting on my lower lip, I close my eyes and lower by head, unsure of what to do here. Why would I trust someone whom I just met for the first time earlier today?
With my hand wrapped around the doorknob, I take a deep breath, still hesitating about this. Nothing good can come out of this, can it? Besides, what kind of a person follows someone home like this? He is a psychopath, and I will live to regret this. If I come out of it alive, I will have to look up the odds of something like this happening to me. Out of all the people in the world who are on this app, I end up with the crazy one. Why?
I yank the door open, like I am about to take him by surprise. Too late I realize that I should have texted Owen before openingthe door, just to give him a heads-up and have him check in on me.
The breath gets knocked out of me when I see Kyle’s face. I don’t know how, but he looks more handsome now than he did earlier at the restaurant. As I run my eyes up and down his body, I notice that he’s still wearing the same clothes as before. So then, why is he looking so much better?
“I’m going to hang up now,” I say into the phone. When I bring it down to disconnect the call, I feel so silly.
I suddenly remember what I’m wearing, which only helps to add a new level of anxiety to this entire thing. Deciding that I will not show Kyle that, I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down.
“What is it that you need to discuss?” I ask.
Kyle, to his credit, looks away bashfully. His hair falls over his eyes, making me want to run my fingers through it as I push it away.
“Can I come in?”
My eyes widen in surprise. I guess I was expecting him to tell me what he wants from the doorway. Now he wants to come in. At least I don’t have to worry about my apartment looking messy because that never happens. I always put all my stuff away, and I vacuum twice a week.
I take a couple of steps to the side, allowing him to enter. I just hope I won’t live to regret it. Seriously, I don’t know what I’m thinking letting him come into my house of my own free will. When they find my body, they will do a special onDatelinewhere the narrator will be wondering out loud where my mind was when I did that.
“I know this is really weird,” Kyle says once he stepped inside, and I closed the door behind him. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I am back to standing awkwardly with my arms over my chest. And, oh my God, I don’t have a bra on. That means I can’t move my arms. At all.
“The fact that you looked me up and found my address is freaking me out, Kyle.”
His face is a mask of surprise when he stares at me. “I swear that I didn’t have to do anything other than type your phone number into my browser.”
“And it gave you my address?” My eyebrow raises and the skepticism in my tone is real.
“Yes, I’ll show you!”
He taps on his phone, turning it around to show me while holding the business card I gave him earlier, as he enters my phone number.
“Whoa,” I murmur as soon as my name and address pops up. A couple of lines down, I also see my age. “This is freaky. What site did you go to?”
