Page 18 of Stalker Stepbrother

“Hey,” he says back, but I notice a muscle tic in his jaw.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nah. Just trying to convince myself not to go back and smash his skull to the pavement.”

Callum makes my heart melt, which is why I often forget the danger and violence just simmering on the surface. I remember the night at the frat house when he had no qualms about hurting that jock.

By now, I know better than to be fooled by his seemingly calm exterior. He doesn’t take shit from anyone, and he won’t ever back down from a fight.

I mean, he just broke that blonde guy’s fingers for touching my ass.

“Forget him. He’s nobody,” I shrug.

“Exactly, and he has the fucking nerve to touch my girl? He’s lucky he got off with only broken bones.”

Dang, that’s hot. The way he’s so possessive. His over-the-top jealousy. It makes something warm spread from my chest to my whole body. There’s always been something combustive between us, but when he’s like this, acting almost like a caveman, it makes me want him so much more—no matter where we are.

Sadly, I look up and find that we’re already at school. Standing on my toes, I kiss his cheek, lingering just a few seconds too long. So when he turns to face me, his eyes have flared with naked hunger.

I do this to him. I affect him this way.

His hands gently clutching either side of my face, he kisses me softly, breath coasting over my lips, teasing me. “I expect you to be wet and ready for me when I get home tonight. Dinner will be a little late. I need to feast on you first.”

I suck in a steadying breath, heat rising on my cheeks. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now, go before I change my mind and toss you over my shoulder.”

* * *

The restof the day crawls so slowly, each class seemingly stretches on endlessly. I vaguely remember a blur of voices, scribbled notes, two more cups of coffee, and half a sandwich in between.

I’m counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds before I can finally go home to Callum. Honestly, I don’t recall being this excited to leave school.

Back in our old town, I hated going back to our run-down apartment, with its musty smell, peeling paint and water stains on the wall, uneven floorboards, and squeaky couch. I could hardly study and concentrate on my homework since the walls were so thin, I could hear my neighbors arguing. And they argued every waking hour. Not to mention all those boys smoking in the hallways, perpetually high and smiling.

It’s not even just the house itself. It’s coming home to Callum, into his arms—the only place where I feel safe, where I know nobody could hurt me. With him, I can just be.

Finally, the bell rings, and my heart leaps with excitement.

The taxi stops in front of our house. Ours. This is our little slice of heaven. Okay, maybe “little” is a stretch. I take two steps at a time and stop in front of the doorway breathlessly. I slide the key in and turn it, the wooden oak door creaking as it opens.

I kick off my shoes and almost run upstairs to bathe and change when, from the corner of my eyes, I see movement in the shadows, causing me to slam to a halt and a shiver to run down my spine.

My heartbeat picks up, and I try to convince myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, maybe because it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. Attempting to shake off the unease, I flip the switch on, flooding the entire floor with light.

The sudden brightness hurts my eyes, but I see there’s nothing out of place, nothing that shouldn’t be here. I breathe a sigh of relief and laugh nervously, mentally chiding myself for being anxious and jumpy.

I try to push away any doubt, but I hear a rustle behind me. There’s pounding in my temples, and sweat slides down my spine. My heavy breathing is suddenly too loud. I keep telling myself I’m being silly and Callum will be here any minute.

Clenching my trembling hands, I breathe in and out slowly. It’s supposed to calm me, but it’s doing the exact opposite. The feeling of dread and unease only grows stronger. Something heavy settles in the pit of my stomach, and I swallow past the sour taste in my mouth.

“You’re being stupid. It’s nothing,” I whisper to myself, summoning the courage to take my phone out and call Callum. I don’t care if he thinks I’m being paranoid. I just need to hear his voice, to reassure me I’m panicking over nothing.

“Not really, sweetheart.”

I whirl around and feel the air rush out of my lungs at the sight of a complete stranger standing by the door. He’s slightly shorter than Callum but almost just as big, with broad shoulders and bulging muscles straining against the sleeves of his once-white shirt. His coat is slung over his forearm, and that’s the moment it clicks.

He’s the one I saw earlier across the cafe!

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