AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Very.”
He kisses the back of my hand before letting our hands drop between us, though still conjoined. I lead him into my house where my family’s chatter dies down to meet the newcomer.
“Two?” Tate exclaims in shock. “Holy crap!”
Tate rushes over to us and hugs Two. “This is the girl who ran you over with her car?”
I gape at Two. “You told him that?”
Two shrugs and smirks. “Yes, because you did.”
“I hit you. I didn’t run you over.”
“Wow,” Tate says breathily, eyes wide with awe. “I have so many questions. So many. We’re going to talk about this tomorrow in our session.” He motions for the table. “Come eat with us.”
I introduce Two to everyone as my boyfriend. Some of the family doesn’t know the whole drama about the canceled adoption and Mom knowing his dads, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to fill them in. Especially not with Hiroshi Tanaka watching us with cool interest.
When we’re finally seated to eat, Sloane leans into me and says, “Tanaka’s here to meet with your dad about the stalker. See if he can offer his help. He’s good people.”
Is he, though?
The man continues to study me and Two.
“Yeah, sure,” I mumble.
I glance past Sloane to see Dempsey frowning hard. He’s never been Tanaka’s biggest fan. He must be feeling my uneasy vibes through our twin bond because he’s watching Tanaka like he might be about to do something stupid.
Like kidnap me?
The thought of going anywhere with Tanaka makes me shudder. Why isn’t his wife along for the visit? Why doesn’t he talk much? Why does he keep looking at us?
Finally, Tanaka tears his gaze away from mine to look down at his phone. He pecks away on it with one long, bony finger before he puts it away.
Seconds later, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I freeze, terror clawing its way up my throat. It’s him. Tanaka is my stalker. Swallowing down bile, I fish my phone out of my pocket and read my message.
Except it’s not a message.
It’s a calendar reminder to turn in an interest form for a school workshop.
Not Tanaka. Just a reminder.
Ugh.
Fear is my new normal and I hate it.
Two
“What if it’s Mr. Pederson?” Gemma whispers, eyeing the papers he gave to the two of us when we came into class this morning. “He seems weirdly fixated on us as a pair.”
I glance at our professor and frown. He’s just some old dude who loves historical restoration, not a stalker.
“I think you’re reaching,” I mutter back, nudging her under the table with my foot. “You’re paranoid.”
She shoots me an irritated look, but it’s the truth. Last night, after a loud dinner with her family, she told me all about how she thought the police chief was her stalker. I think, at this point, anyone could be the stalker according to Gemma.
Worrying about everyone without definitive proof is pointless.
