Page 4 of Stalked By the Recruiter

Despite that and the multitude of red flags waving in the forefront of my mind, I didn’t move. I didn’t dare take my eyes off the woman who even from a distance was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

I stared like some kind of creep.

I couldn’t help myself.

I soaked in every detail I could from afar. The easy calm way she sat. Criss-crossed on the bench, it was obvious her attention wasn’t on anyone in particular. Bright white headphones over her head, dark hair that was wrapped up in a low bun. Her head bobbed up and down to the rhythm of whatever she was listening to. She dropped her book and looked around, and that was when everything inside my body came alive.

Alive in a way I had never felt.

Something started to uncoil and breathe life into me.

She was stunning.

Smooth, caramel skin. Bangs that kind of skated over her glasses. And her eyes? I couldn’t make out the exact shade, but fuck if my feet didn’t start to move. Not away like I should have, but closer.

Step by step, I neared. Slowed down as I approached the bench. Our eyes connected for a moment, probably a mere second. But just like that, I fell into an abyss of green with flecks of gold. Jesus, she was beautiful.Mine.The thing inside of me that had started to unfurl hissed.Mine.Mine. Mine!

As quickly as the moment arose, for my own sake, I passed her and kept walking. Sat my ass four benches away and pretended to check my emails on my phone.Mine,that little voice in my head murmured a little louder. Ten minutes later, she stood, and my eyes widened. I knew I was going to follow her before I did it.Damn the consequences.

My head was filled with so much shit I didn’t know which way was up. But I couldn’t ignore the need to know a little more about her.Is she a student? Staff? Professor?I couldn’t make out how old she was. Not by the way she was dressed or how she carried herself. And I knew that because I followed her like some kind of goddamn stalker.

Right into the library.

Students waved at her with familiarity and ease. I frowned.Who is she?She walked to the information desk, where she talked to some of the staff, and I heard a kid call her Miss Villalobos. My girl had a last name, and by the way everyone knew her, it was obvious she was someone they worked with.

She was someone in charge.

I sat down, still within eyesight of the woman who had mixed up my head and set my shit on the table. I quickly looked up the school directory on my phone.Carmen Villalobos, Librarian.

Carmen.The name suited her. Classic. Pretty with a little spice. I sat back and picked up the bottle of water and brought it to my lips. When I finished it, I scowled.

What the hell is in the water here?

CHAPTER 1

CARMEN VILLALOBOS

“Si,mami. I told you yes already.” I sighed and rolled my eyes while I stared at my red goldendoodle, Stitch. He was looking at me with pity in his eyes.

Almost like he knew what I just signed up for. And he hated it for me.

“Okay, good. Esto es algo bueno, vas a ver! You’ll see it’s a good thing, mija. I have a good feeling!” My mom and her good feelings. Every setup was a worse disaster than the last, but she was a hopeless romantic. I was her only daughter, who got guilted into saying yes to mostly every single one of her attempts. Thank god she lived in Arizona. I could only imagine the trouble she’d cause if we lived in the same state.

“Mom.” I groaned. “It’s a date. I agreed to go on a date.ONE date.” I made sure to specify because as much as I loved my mom, she could be a little nutty. And pushy. “I didn’t promise to marry the guy.” Been there, done that, and had scars to prove it. Both physically and mentally.

“Uno nunca sabe,” she quickly added. My mom and her eternal optimism.

“Trust me, mami, I know exactly where this is going and not going.” Stitch barked as if confirming and jumped off my couch. It was obvious he was as over this conversation as I was.

“You’re as stubborn as your dad,” she complained. My lips twitched.

“I heard that.” My dad’s deep voice perked up in the background, making me laugh. “Carmen.” He sounded clearer now, which meant he had walked into whatever room my mom was hiding in. “Don’t let your mom bully you.”

“I’m not bullying our daughter!” She gasped overdramatically. But then again, that was my mom.

“Eso es exactamente lo que estas haciendo,” he pointed out. I pressed my lips together to stop myself from laughing.

“That is not exactly what I am doing,” she argued half-heartedly because I was sure she didn’t believe it herself.

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