Page 45 of Love on the Ice

My chest squeezes, and I suck in a breath, holding it as I stare at him. I don’t know what’s going to happen or why he’s here, but I wait for his next move. Then he takes a step backward, turns his back to me, and walks away.

Once he’s out of view, I slam my curtains closed, spin around, and sink down to my ass.

What the absolute hell?

I stay here in my room, my eyes focused on the bedroom door, waiting for him to appear. He doesn’t. But I imagine a million different scenarios in which he does. Then I hear Brooklynn’s voice call out my name.

I’m not sure how long I sit there on the floor, but when I hear her voice, it’s almost as if my body is pulled from its comatose state. Pushing myself up, I stand and make my way out of the room and down the stairs until I reach the kitchen, where Brooklynn is standing.

“Your phone has been dancing around on the counter. I wasn’t sure if you were here,” she says.

I think about telling her what happened with Professor MacDonald, but I decide against it. Maybe it was a one-time thing. Maybe it didn’t even happen.

I decide that I’m going to ignore it, because ignorance is bliss, and I don’t want to think about anything bad happening. Maybe he just wanted to warn me off from telling anyone about him and Jill and is trying to intimidate me.

Shaking that asshole from my thoughts, I reach for my phone. I glance down at the notifications. There are four new text messages from Reid. Sinking my teeth into the corner of my bottom lip, I open the messaging app.

REID: WE LANDED

REID: YOU THERE?

REID: LORELAI?

REID: CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN.

I feel bad that it looks like I’ve been ignoring him when, in reality, I was busy panicking. Instead of calling him, considering it’s been a few hours, I send him a text.

Sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you. I promise.

I’m not sure what else to say. And I would have less to say if I actually called him. So, texting is the way to go at this point. I’m not sure what I expected, but it isn’t him texting me back immediately.

My phone buzzes in my hand as a new text from Reid comes through.

REID: YOU GOOD?

I’m good.

I lie. I am indeed not good. I’m the exact opposite of good because my creepy ex-professor was standing outside my window smiling, waving, and, more importantly… watching me.

But I know it would upset him if I told him that. Plus, that would make me more of a damsel in distress, and I’m not sure I want to be that to him.

If he really does like me, I want it to be for me.

For who I am.

Not because he has to save me. A man like him, an alpha male, a protector, he’s going to save me and then feel as if he must be with me. It won’t be because he wants me. It’ll be because he feels as if he can’t leave me because I’m fragile. And that is definitely not something I want.

So I don’t say anything.

REID

Frowning, I stare at my phone. It doesn’t seem right. Lorelai doesn’t seem right. Albeit I don’t know her well enough to really guess what could be bothering her, I know her well enough that I am certain something is wrong.

Instead of pushing it, I reach for a mozzarella stick, dunking it in the marinara sauce before shoving it in my mouth, trying to think of what to type back to her.

“Get off your fucking phone,” Otto shouts.

I flip him off as I chew the really great-tasting cheese stick. Focusing back on my phone, I grunt as my fingers move across the screen.

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