Page 1 of The Stalker Snafu

CHAPTER 1

A Waffle

It all started with a waffle.

A platter of waffles, to be exact. And my boyfriend taking me out for a birthday breakfast on Sunday morning would’ve been a dream come true, but overhearing said boyfriend’s secret phone call in the bathroom before we left his place was a bit of a mood killer.

Especially when I was pretty sure the phone call was about me.

“She doesn’t know anything. Not a clue.”

“She’s harmless, Julian. Trust me.”

Pretty concerning, right?

I’d met Noah Kincaid after a bit of an accident involving his pen and my overeager teeth in our Music Theory class at Westcroft University. … I might’ve used his pen as a chew toy. Apparently, it was pretty expensive, and I quickly found myself in a world of debt with the guy. We’re talking ninety-nine dollars plus tax for a pen—which is a lot for someone with no money. It was enough that I got a second part-time job as a caterer on top of my gig tutoring kids in piano.

Making a profit was slow-going, especially when I had to keep paying for catering dishes that magically ended up broken through very little fault of my own. But after putting aside enough money for food, I’d scraped together eighty-three dollars so far, stuffed in a sock in the back of my underwear drawer.

I called it The Noah Fund.

Aside from the whole pen fiasco, Noah and I had gotten close after our professor, Atticus Slade, paired us together for our final project—composing a duet together. It was a little scandalous partnering with an upperclassman as a freshman, so of course I threw gas on the fire by dating him, too.

There was a slight crisis when I almost failed out of the class before it really began, which would’ve voided my scholarship in the piano program. But with Noah’s help and me actually applying myself, I’d finally caught up with the rest of the class. Which left us with a little over a month to finish our duet project by mid-December.

Plenty of time.

Unfortunately, after I woke up to warm kisses and presents on my nineteenth birthday, my boyfriend decided to have a suspicious conversation in the bathroom, which I unintentionally overheard when trying to join him for a little shower-bonding time. It was a surprise, to say the least. Normal conversations didn’t usually consist of subtle threats or references to leaving money at a drop spot.

Noah’s words replayed on a loop in my mind during our quiet drive to a hole-in-the-wall café.

“Either they have the money today, or we’ll have the less nice Pierce brother stop by their place for a visit.”

“The west drop spot. Take Adrian with you.”

“I can’t today. I already made plans… It doesn’t matter who they’re with… You know you nag worse than most mothers do, right?”

“Relax. She doesn’t know anything… No. Not a clue… She’s harmless, Julian. Trust me.”

“I told you not to worry about it. Just get this done.”

By the time we made it to the café, the butterflies in my stomach were in talks to stage a full-scale revolt.

So, instead of stuffing my face with birthday waffles drowned in barely legal amounts of syrup, I sat in a cozy red booth across from my entirely-too-calm-considering-what-I’d-overheard boyfriend and frowning at him.

I studied him from under my lashes. Tall enough to dwarf me, Noah Kincaid looked like a model straight out of a menswear campaign in his sleek blazer and crisp shirt. The dark brown hair I loved running my fingers through was perfectly styled compared to the quick ponytail I’d wrangled my blonde locks into. Striking bone structure called attention to his sharp hazel eyes, and I dutifully averted my gaze before I could go soft.

Looking at my party platter of chocolate chip waffle heaven didn’t help either. What would normally make me salivate was leaving a sour taste on my tongue before I’d even taken a bite.

It didn’t take long for Noah to notice something was off.

“Is there a problem with the waffles?” He eyed my untouched plate and took a drink of his coffee.

“I’m sure they’re lovely,” I answered diplomatically, stuffing my hands into my hoodie pocket and leaning back against the booth’s bench. I held Noah’s gaze and tried to ignore the swoonworthy scent of maple syrup wafting into my face.

His eyes darted to the waffles again before meeting mine and narrowing. “… Then why aren’t you eating them?”

Growing defiant, I lifted my chin. “Just because something is lovely doesn’t mean I have to eat it.”