CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE GIRL

It’s the strangest feeling, not pain, peace, or something quite in between either.

For a moment, I just lay there staring at the ceiling. Expecting to feel bruised or sore. But there’s nothing, no ache in any part of my body. Surprisingly, I feel fine.

The memory of the dream is faint, but it’s still there. I remember being in the water. He was there again, but he didn’t touch me like before, not in that way.

He just pressed my body close and washed my arms and legs with slow, careful movements. It wasn’t sexual. It felt different, like he was trying to take something away from me. Something heavy.

I sit up on the couch and glance around. The soda can is still on the table. I must’ve fallen asleep here waiting for Brittany last night.

As if on cue, the front door clicks and she steps in, carrying a grocery bag. She stops in the doorway and stares.

“Lovie. You didn’t go to class? Or the library? I called, twice.”

I blink. “Shit. I must’ve… sorry, I’m not feeling great.”

She drops the bag on the counter and kicks off her shoes. “Wait, something’s off. What happened?”

“I almost got robbed last night. Or kidnapped.”

Brittany’s smile dies. “Wait, what?”

“I was walking home,” my throat tightens at the memory, “these two guys, they pulled me into an alley.”

She’s sitting next to me on the couch now, worry spread across her face. “What the fuck? Did you get hurt? Did you go to the police?”

“I’m okay,” I say quickly. “There was this huge, uh, dog. He chased them off.”

“A dog?” she repeats, eyes narrowing. She’s clearly unconvinced but desperate for any explanation that made sense.

But I can’t tell her I was saved by a wolf, or worse, that it’s the same wolf I’ve seen in my dreams. It doesn’t make sense, not even to me. It definitely won’t make sense to the police either.

“I know how it sounds.” I force a laugh, but it comes out shaky. “I didn’t go to the police because they didn’t take anything. I’m actually completely fine. I wasn’t hurt either.”

Brittany stares at me for a beat, then sighs. “And you didn’t see their faces or anything? Are you sure you’re okay, Lovie?”

“I’m good, I swear. I should’ve taken the bus, or a taxi.”

“No, don’t say that. It’s not your fault that you chose to walk home at night. We do that all the time.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just be more careful next time.”

She rubs her hands down her face. “Okay, okay. That’s a lot, and crazy. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you need coffee? Because I need something strong in my system after what we did last night.” Her mouth curls with smug satisfaction.

“Hmmm, blonde guy from the store?” I ask excitedly.

“Nahhh, that’s Henry.” She goes to the counter and starts sorting out the contents of the bag. “I’m talking about Isaiah. He was in that play, remember?”

“Oh, oh, the main lead guy?”

“Yeah, that’s him. That’s where I was last night. Let’s just say, a LOT of things happened.” Her eyes glitter. “And we have that class trip this weekend. He’s going to be there. I’m packing all my push up bras.”

I can’t help but laugh, and she joins me. It’s not rare to see Brittany this excited to talk about a guy, only that there will be a new one next week.

—————

It’s barely noon and the sky is grey. The café smells like burnt cinnamon and espresso. Brittany tries to fill the silence with small talk, but my mind keeps wandering.

To the wolf. The river. Khylon.

There’s no way it’s not the same wolf. I remember it clearly. And yet, what was he doing there? How did he know I was in trouble?

Something doesn’t add up.

The coffee grounds me a little. Brittany complains about the weather, the professors and prices of oat milk until I finally laugh. She links her hand through mine on the way home.

We round the corner to a delivery truck parked in front of the building.

“Looks like someone is finally taking that weed smoke cave,” Brittany mumbles mid-sip. “That neighbor moved out like a month ago. It still smelled like a skunk’s butt for a while.”

I open my mouth to respond, but my words die in my throat. I stop cold, my grip tightening around the cup.

Standing in front of the building, in black jeans and a jacket, is him.

Khylon.

Talking to the delivery guys as they load the last few things into the back of the truck. His hands are in his pockets, casual as ever. Like he belongs here. Like he’s not the reason I can’t think straight.

Brittany follows my gaze. “Oh my gosh. The new neighbor is smoking hot.”

“Khylon?”

“Wait, is this professor guy?” She nudges my side with her elbow. “You didn’t tell me he was moving in, Lovie.”

“I didn’t know,” I reply quietly, eyes fixed on him.

He turns, sees us, and nods with a thin, straight smile on his face. As if nothing changed.

He left me at the bar.

He didn’t come to the library.

And now he shows up out of nowhere and moves into our apartment?

That’s too many coincidences for someone I just met. People don’t show up in your life like this without a reason.

Nothing about this makes sense.

And even though I don’t say it, I’m starting to wonder if Khylon sent those men. It would explain how he knew where I was. Or why he’s here all of a sudden. Is he… stalking me?

But then, why?

No. That doesn’t make any sense either.

I step forward, heart thudding. “What are you doing here?”

“Moving in,” he says simply. “Unit three.”

“Really,” I say flatly.

“I figured it’d be easier. For my research,” he says, gesturing vaguely toward the school. “More convenient this way.”

“For your research,” I repeat, voice dry. “Right.”

“I take it you don’t believe me?” He says, teasing. But there’s something unreadable behind his eyes.

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “You’re, full of surprises lately.”

Brittany bounds up beside me and offers him her hand. “I’m Brittany. We’re in the flat directly below yours.”

He takes her hand with that same calm expression. “Khylon.”

“Nice to meet you. I was just telling El here how lucky we are. You know, the last guy smoked like a chimney and kept throwing these crazy parties.”

“I promise not to do either,” he says with a wry smile, though his eyes flick to me.

“Damn. And here I was hoping for an invite this time.”

I cross my arms, watching the interaction. Everything about him seems so calculated. Too smooth. Like he knew this was going to happen. It’s like he planned it.

“Let me know if you need help with boxes,” Brittany adds with a wink.

“I think I’ve got it. But thanks.”

His eyes flick to mine again. Steady. Focused. And suddenly I remember how close he was two nights ago, only a few inches from me across the table, talking to me about dreams and what not. Then he left me.

My head is spawning too many questions but brain is providing too few answers.

Without saying another word, I turn and start up the stairs. Brittany follows, whispering under her breath.

“You so have a stalker Lovie. A sexy one.”

I don’t respond. Because she might be right.

And I’m not sure if that terrifies me, or excites me more.