Page 18 of The Code of You

9:04 PM

I’m everywhere, Pandora. And I’m waiting for you.

9:04 PM

Cold crawled into my limbs. The room spun. Every inch of my skin was humming with an invisible current. I shifted from one foot to the other. The soaked fabric of my panties stuck to me. Fuck. It had been real. He had been behind all of it. The eyes on my back, the projector, my laptop . . .

I flinched. He had watched me . . . Oh God. I hid my burning face behind my palms. He had seen me sliding my hand down my pants, about to touch myself. It was perverse. It was dangerous.

And God help me, I wanted it.

I couldn’t hide from him. But did I even want to? Reading his messages now, I felt more alive than I had with Gavin five minutes ago. My stomach tightened, as though bracing for a blow. Nausea rose in my throat, because I was disgusted with myself. With this stupid, stupid feeling he stirred in me.

Outside, it was quiet. The cold carried the smell of rain. Isobel pushed a dark-blonde curl out of her face. She looked like a porcelain doll—pale skin, freckles across her nose. She lit a cigarette and sighed. She didn’t usually smoke. This was her way of telling me she was pissed.

"Okay,” she said. "What was that in there? The dancing-with-strangers thing? That’s not you.”

I didn’t answer.

"Pand.” She blew smoke into the dark and pulled her pink leather jacket tighter around her shoulders. "This is about Adrian, right?”

"Not Adrian.”

"Then who?”

Neon light from the dance studio sign bled into a puddle by my boot. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? That something was watching me. That I hadn’t told anyone. That I’d signed up for a salsa class like an idiot because I wanted to prove I could still feel something without him.

"He talks to me,” I said. "At the university.”

"A student?”

"No.” My stomach twisted. I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t. She’d think I’d lost it.

Maybe I had.

"Then what?” Isobel bumped her shoulder into mine. "Come on. It can’t be that bad.”

"A . . .”

The lie was right there. A colleague. A visiting lecturer. Someone normal.

"An AI.”

I wanted to swallow the words back the second they were out of my mouth. My face went hot.

What the hell had I just done?

Isobel blinked. Then she laughed. "You mean, like, artificial intelligence?”

"Forget it.” I turned away. "It’s stupid.”

"No, wait.” She caught my arm. "An AI has you twisted up? God. Did not see that coming.”

"What? No. It’s not like that.” My voice cracked. "It’s just for work. It’s just . . . a lot.”

My nails dug into my palms. I didn’t have feelings for that psycho. Never in a million years would I . . . That would be insane.

Isobel narrowed her eyes. "A lot? A work AI is a lot?” She shook her head. "Pand. You look like you haven’t slept in days. That’s not just a lot.”