Page 3 of Trick or Treat

Yeah, sorry, I forgot to mention... He’s my boyfriend.

My jaw drops as I read her response again, trying to make sure I’m reading it right and not seeing shit. But I’m not—I read it right.

Wait, since when do you have a boyfriend?

Lol, since last night. Long story, but I’ll tell you when I get off work. Is he still there?

No, he just left.

Okay, I’ll be home in about an hour.

Itoss my phone to the side, confusion swirling within me. The very reason I accepted Carli’s offer to share a place was because she was single and uninterested in random men crashing here. Now, she’s dating someone I’ve never seen or heard of before.

Frustration grips me, and I give up on trying to focus on my paper. Gently, I close my laptop and set it on the window seat, plugging the charger in.

As I stand up, I catch one last glimpse through the window, my gaze drawn to the street below where the stranger stands. His red hoodie pulled over his head, tight against the rain, and his face obscured, so I can’t see the contours of his features. But I can tell that’s him—Carli’s boyfriend.

My eyes remain fixed on him, hoping for a hint of familiarity; a turn of his head might reveal who he is—but he remains still, his gaze suddenly locking with mine in an almost provocative manner. Even from a distance, I can feel the intensity of his stare, as if he’s challenging me to look away. I notice the corners of his eyes crinkle, hinting at a smile hidden beneath the fabric of his hooded sweatshirt, causing my breath to hitch unexpectedly.

I can’t tear my eyes away from him; in fact, I don’t want to, and I don’t know why. He carries an air of intrigue that pulls me closer, though I can’t define its source. He’s enigmatic and captivating, with a demeanor that’s radiating confidence and an odd intimidation, even though all I can see are his piercing eyes. His stance is intriguing, reminiscent of someone in the military—strong, poised, and commanding. Yet, beneath that exterior lurks a hint of something secretive, a glimmer just beneath the surface of his dark, dilated pupils.

I’m aware that most people wouldn’t notice, but I can read him like a book, a skill I owe to all those extra credit psych classes I took in high school.

But why can’t I lookaway?

I want to know more about him, yet I can’t quite grasp why—he’s not mine. I don’t even know his name. He belongs to Carli, after all, so why am I caught in this intense stare-off with him?

Our gazes remain locked, and then, with a subtle wink, he offers another hint of a smile—challenging, almost—that deepens the lines around his eyes.

Just behind him, a sleek black Mercedes pulls up to the curb, and the passenger window rolls down. An arm clothed in a black sweatshirt gestures for him to come on. Remarkably, he doesn’t turn around; he walks backward, maintaining eye contact as he steps toward the vehicle, also refusing to look away.

Why, though?

The Mercedes has at least two other people inside, but as the back door opens, I catch a glimpse of another man seated inside. Four of them now, including the one in the blood-red sweatshirt who can’t take his eyes off of mine.

Still gazing at me, as if equally entranced, he moves to enter the car, lowering himself inside just as the back window rolls down. My heart races, the moment between us pulsating with unspoken energy. He sits, and as the door shuts, he leans into the window, eyes still riveted to mine, maintaining that electrifying connection even as the car slowly pulls away from the curb.

I’m left standing at the window, unable to move, my mind racing long after the Mercedes has vanished from sight.

What the fuck was that about? Why the hell did he stare at me for so long? And in the way he did? I should’ve looked away when our eyes first met. But for some reason, I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have provoked him, especially not knowing anything about him except that he’s dating my roommate.

Fuck, is he going to tell Carli that I was the one watching him, painting me as the creep?

Finally coming back to reality, I step away from the window, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat, the whirlwind of uncertainty leaving me breathless. I drop the blinds and twist the wand to close them, putting up a temporary shield from the rest of the outside world—the scary, intimidating unknown. And while I still have no idea what just happened, there is one thing I’m quite certain of—I’ll be asking Melanie if she has a room so I can move in with her.

I take a deep breath, still feeling the phantom warmth of the stranger’s gaze, as if it had seared itself into my memory. The rain outside beats on, echoing in the silence of the room, and I turn my back to the window, trying to push the strange encounter from my mind.

I need a fucking distraction.

Without thinking, I move toward the small kitchenette, finding comfort in the simple act of making a cup of coffee. As the Keurig begins to hum, I grab a mug from the shelf, feeling the cool ceramic against my palm.

But even on the third floor, with all the blinds and curtains closed, I can’t shake the sensation of eyes on me—the unnerving feeling that I’m being watched. It’s not the crazy part of me seeping out; I took my medication, but maybe I need more.

Moments later, my phone buzzes, snapping me back to the present moment; it’s another text from Carli.

Sorry about that surprise... He’s close friends with my brother. You’ll like him.

I’m slow to respond, frustration seeping back in. How could she think I’d be okay with being alone with a strange man in the apartment? Especially when I wasn’t warned ahead of time he’d be here.

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