Page 30 of Chasing Amanda

“Third floor.” She pointed at a bay window.

“When you’re inside, safe and sound with the door locked behind you, wave to me, okay?”

She stepped forward and rested her hand on his chest. “Why don’t you just walk me up?”

“You know why.”

“Cheesecake?”

“Yeah.” His lips tipped up in a smile. “Cheesecake.”

She lingered there a long moment. Then she climbed the steps and went inside.

A minute later, she appeared in the bay window and waved.

Mark lifted his hand, then settled in his car, satisfied that she was safe, and cursed himself for a fool.

He’d done the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. He’d fallen in love.

As much as he wanted to be angry with himself, he knew he was smiling as he drove away.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Amanda continued watching the street even after Mark’s car disappeared around the corner. Maybe he’d change his mind and come back for dessert—the fattening kind, anyway.

She hadn’t been interested in any men on campus. They drank too much and talked too loudly. They were arrogant and irritating, and she didn’t trust them.

But Mark was different. Everything about him was different. He was a man of honor, more concerned about her virtue than his pleasure.

She missed him already.

But he wasn’t coming back, not tonight. Reluctantly, she dropped the curtain and grabbed her phone from her purse. She left the pepper spray and keychain alarm where they were and headed for the bedroom, where she plugged her phone into the charger on her nightstand. She was halfway through brushing her teeth when her phone rang.

She smiled into the mirror. It was Mark. It had to be.

The phone had stopped ringing by the time she finished, but she’d call him right back. She was in the hallway when she heard a knock at the door.

She smiled so wide that her cheeks hurt.

He’d returned after all.

She ran to the door and flung it open.

A man stood there, his black hoodie covering shocking white-blond hair, his left eye blackened and swollen.

Gasping, Amanda slammed the door, but he blocked it and stepped in. He grabbed the back of her head with his left hand, covered her mouth with his right, and shoved her inside.

She was off balance, trying to push him away. But she was no match for him.

He swept her feet out from under her, releasing his hold on her head at the same time.

Her back slammed against the hardwood floor. Her breath whooshed out.

She struggled to pull in air, desperate to stand. To run. To scream.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything.

Ignoring the stabbing pain in her back, she crawled toward the kitchen. Scream! But only the tiniest, raspy noise came out.