Arrogant Stalker

CHAPTER 4

Arrogant Stalker

•••LIAM•••

•••Three Days Later•••

I found her in the library, sitting at a table, books lying around as she used a highlighter to mark the chapter she was reading.

I glanced at her kissable lips, she was sucking out of habit, and the strands from her messy ponytail falling into her almond shaped eyes.

Tracking her down had been easy, "accidentally" bumping into Chris, a hockey goalie, at our athletic center, who had been eager to help out a fellow jock.

Through him, I got April Brown, her roommate's contact. I started chatting with her yesterday, and it turns out she was a big football fan. It was her who had let me know exactly when and where Skylar would be.

I had no reason for stalking her. I had my own stuff to do, a training session in eight minutes, films to watch. My feet moved anyway as I slid into the seat across from her, a smug smile on my face.

"You are stalking me now, Westbrook?"

"That is such a strong word," I said with fake innocence. "I prefer 'admiring from afar.'"

She gave me a look that translated to liar. "I would apologize, except we both know I'm not sorry," I added.

"What do you want?" she asked, picking up a pen to write some notes. "I'm sure it is someone to stain your sheets. West, you have a lot of options, dating apps, perhaps."

"What do I need to do to fuck you?"

"Wow! That is really inappropriate. I'm not a reward you get for acing a task. You know what, let me entertain this. You will have to be smart, passionate about philanthropy, ambitious, a handsome man wouldn't hurt either."

I perked up at that. I was pretty gifted in that department. Not to brag or anything. "Well... two out of four is a good score."

"Do you really think every girl here wants you?"

I grinned. "I mean, history agrees with me."

"Then let those girls keep you cozy at night. Your socials, full of clichés, proudly depict how vain you are."

"Wait, you looked me up?" I questioned, refusing to take the bait to get riled up by the dig.

"To see what the hype was all about. Ended up being disappoint–" A ping sounded from her phone. Glancing at the screen, she stood up to gather her books. "I have to go. I'm late for class."

"Hey, can I walk you there?"

She scoffed. "No, this isn't the 13th century, where I will get attacked by mystical beasts if my shining knight isn't by my side."

"Chill, I just want to talk to you." Ish, that sounded corny.

"No," she said, walking down the hall. I caught up to her, my long legs easily matching her fast steps.

"Law, huh? What drew you to that career path?"

"How do you know that?"

"The legal reasoning book you stuffed in your bag."

"Observant, shocker," she said, tucking some strands of hair behind her ears, the silver ring on her right middle finger encrusted with pink stones twinkling in the sunlight.

"I'm a quarterback, it's kinda my superpower, and you haven't answered the question."

"None of your business."

"Your dream profession when you were young?"

She sighed. "Since you must know, our flawed system. The rich get a slap on the wrist or a little stint in prison, while the poor spend years for the same crime, because they don't have expensive lawyers who take advantage of loopholes within our law."

"You are driven by a desire for justice. I knew it. Explains the fiery attitude." I smiled to myself.

"You don't know me, Westbrook."

"That is the whole point of this, because I know nothing about you."

"This is all about getting your next orgasm. Don't mix it up." We stopped at a glass building, which had students moving in and out of its entrance.