Page 13 of Deja Brew

“I’m aware.” I scan the room again, seeing my hair and silhouette over and over. “So you made sure I got to work safely and didn’t die? Bit weird, but thanks I guess. What the fuck is all this?” I gesture at the walls.

He shrugs his shoulders, eyes on the floor. “I like to paint.”

“The only art on these walls are of me and my cat. Why don’t you paint anything else?”

“Sometimes I paint the ocean.”

“But hang pictures of me.” I glare at him and realise I’m breathing hard. I need to get out of here. Why am I standing here, talking to someone who follows me around, surrounded by art he’s done of me? “I’m leaving.” I edge into the hall and creep along the wall opposite him, trying to stay as far away from him as I can.

“Lily, please wait. Let me explain?—”

“No. Don’t come near me.”

I leave him in the hallway, staring after me, clutching Thai food in his hand.

The door slams behind me.

5

LILY

My shoes clickon the concrete as I hurry home through the drizzle, bag crashing against my hip, breath sucked into my lungs and exhaled shakily. The street blurs and I can barely see where I’m going. I glance over my shoulder towards his flat.

I’m not exactly scared, but seeing dozens of paintings of my face plastered on his wall has thrown me for a loop. Why are there so many of them? Why did he paint them in the first place? None of it makes sense. He’s never made me feel unsafe. Usually when I’m with him I feel safest, but…it’s not normal to have that many pictures of someone. In one room.

God. It was a shrine.

I was in my stalker’s house. Hadkissedhim. And liked it.

I rub a hand across my mouth roughly, attempting to remove the feeling, but it’s burned into me. Burned into my very soul, where I’ll never be able to remove it and will carry the sensation with me for eternity.

When did he start following me? I didn’t notice anything until winter, so maybe it’s a recent addition to his day. Wake up, follow Lily, drive a truck around, follow Lily home, then paint pictures of her so she can freak out when she finds them.

My mind’s so frazzled it takes a second to notice I’m standing in my lounge while Cas stares at me, more concerned than he ever has been. Not enough to get off the couch, though.

“Are you okay?” The voice comes from the kitchen, and I whirl around and sag in relief when Ella comes into view.

I nod quickly and nod again when her eyebrow lifts. “Yep, totally fine.”

“I thought you went shopping?”

“I did.” My hand clenches the bag hiding the pink tissue paper. I was so happy to bump into Leo—and fine, I’ll admit I bought the stupid lingerie with him in mind—but was he there deliberately? To follow me while I shopped? I shiver. Does he know I…bought something with him in mind? Did he see what I chose?

“You never shop this long, and you don’t have any shopping bags.” She sits on the couch and pulls me with her, scaring Cas into another room.

“I saw Leo.”

Ella tilts her head. “I thought you’d be excited. Didn’t you ask him out?”

“Hmm, yeah. I did.” Why can’t I stop nodding? “Went to his place, which was exciting until I found a room filled with paintings of me.”

Ella blinks at me. “You what?”

“He has a room in his house wall-to-wall of drawings and paintings of me.” Is that my voice sounding shrill?

“How… What—I don’t understand.”

“There is a room?—”

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