Page 32 of Stalkers Anonymous

Our thighs brush, sending a chill up my spine. Goose bumps rise all over my body, including my legs, which I shaved specifically for this date.

Not that anyone will be touching my bare legs this evening. Why would they? I’ll be totally clothed until I’m home, alone.

Probably.

“How are you feeling after your work week?”

“Exhausted but good. It was a pretty average week—busy, but no major traumas.” I take a sip of water. “And now I have four whole days off, which feels like a lifetime.”

“Do you have plans other than this?”

“I’m not sure yet. Rachel mentioned wanting to see a new rom-com, but I’m not really into movie theaters. They’re kind of gross.”

Cole grins. “You don’t like sitting in the same chair a thousand people have dropped popcorn and candy into?”

“That, and I know what I did in those chairs when I was a teenager.” I almost shudder thinking about the pimply peach fuzz on Ben Greene’s face in the twelfth grade, but the thought falls away when Cole’s fingertips skim my upper arm, returning me to the present. I instinctively reach for him, letting my hand drop onto his upper thigh. My lips part at the soft click of his throat when he swallows, his Adam’s apple falling, then rising.

Fuck, he’s hot.

The waiter returns to take our orders. I choose the butternut squash ravioli, and Cole orders the bolognese over rigatoni. When we’re alone again, there’s a moment of comfortable silence.

“So,” I begin, “you think you can help me with a security system?”

“Right. Yes.” He leans forward to pull out his phone, and I let my hand fall away. But he pauses to pointedly place my hand back exactly where it was before he opens a document and shows me his screen. “I put together some information for you. Nothing too overwhelming—just a few different options depending on what you’re interested in.”

True to his word, it’s organized and straightforward. Each option has a brief description and pictures. I can’t believe he did all of this for me. The thoughtfulness and care that went into this effort…it makes my breath catch.

“This is really helpful,” I say, gratitude making my voice tight. “You put a lot of thought into this.”

“I wanted to make sure you had good information to make the right choice for yourself.” He scrolls down. “The basic option would be door and window sensors—they alert you if someone tries to open them when the system is armed. Pretty straightforward and easy to install.”

“And the mid-range?”

“Adds smart locks and a camera for your front door. You can see who’s there from your phone, lock and unlock remotely if you need to. A lot more peace of mind.”

I nod, studying the screen. “What about the top option?”

“Full system with multiple cameras and motion sensors, more like a professional monitoring service. It’s somewhat expensive, but if someone’s genuinely threatening you…” He trails off, and I can hear the concern in his voice. He wants me to tell him more, but he isn’t actually asking. When I don’t move into the opening he’s left, he says, “It might be worth it.”

Our appetizer arrives—antipasti to share. As we pick at the plate, Cole walks me through the pros and cons of each system with patience, not once making me feel stupid for my questions, even when I ask him to explain technology that probably seems like child’s play to someone like him.

“The thing is,” I say, wiping my hands on my napkin, “I don’t know how seriously to take this. The note could have been random. Maybe I’m overreacting.”

Cole’s expression grows serious. “What did it say? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I hesitate, then decide he deserves honesty if he’s going out of his way to help me. “It said ‘I’m watching you.’”

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “That’s not nothing, Hailey.”

“I know. But I work in an ER. We deal with unstable people all the time. Sometimes they fixate on staff members. It usually passes.”

“Usually?”

“Usually,” I confirm, though my voice lacks confidence.

He leans closer to me, letting his voice dip to a whisper. “Has anything else happened? Besides the note?”

I think about Lars Winters knowing Chewy’s name. The constant feeling of being watched. The toll it takes on me.