Page 129 of Texting Dr. Stalker

Surely not.

“Just a friend.” I squinted in the sun. “Go on…if we’re to be friends too, you need to introduce yourself.”

Sighing, he tightened his fingers around mine. His eyebrows knitted together with a flash of frustration. “Okay then. Nice to meet you, Sailor Melody Rose. I’m Zander North. I don’t have a middle name. I don’t like loud music. I suck at sleeping. Oh, and I’m a workaholic.” His hand stopped moving, but he didn’t release me.

We stood there, our palms and fingers linked, locked in a stare that neither of us could break.

I forgot about Milton.

I felt no pain.

The past couldn’t find me as I drowned in a sea of green from his eyes.

For the first time, stirrings of belief that I would be alright grew bright.

This would pass.

I would be happy again.

Starting with doing something brand new.

Tugging my hand from his, I stepped toward his bike. “Take me for a ride, Zander North. I have a sudden urge to fly.”

* 32 *

Zander

Let’s Be Friends

I’D DIED AND WOKEN UP IN A different universe.

It was the only explanation for why Sailor’s arms were wrapped around my waist, her thighs pressed against mine, her heart drumming through her canvas jacket and my leather bomber.

I hadn’t said a word as I’d fetched her a spare helmet from my garage, then slung my leg over my bike and ignited the engine. She’d stayed equally silent as she shoved the helmet on her head, then clambered up behind me.

I’d suffered a full-body quake as she’d hesitantly leaned forward and asked if it was okay to hold me.

She was asking permission to touch me?

I’d had to clench my teeth until they cracked to prevent telling her she’d touched me in far more ways last night. The imprint of her fingers around my cock burned with deception.

Nausea splashed up my throat for lying to her face. I could barely handle those lies when she ran away from me. How could I hope to keep them now that she actively tried to be my friend?

No more secrets, she’d said.

Yet I kept the biggest one of all.

I’d often cursed our grandmothers for meddling with our lives. But now I felt as if they’d cursedme. That if I hadn’t grown up hearing their whispered scheming about me marrying the girl next door, I wouldn’t have been drawn to her against my will. She would’ve just been any other girl.

So why did I feel like she was theonlygirl?

Shaking away those thoughts and focusing on the road, I cranked the engine a little more now we were away from suburbia and heading to rural farmland.

I didn’t check over my shoulder to see if she was okay with going fast.

I already knew she needed what I did.

She was healing and healing sometimes required ripping off scabs and tearing off bandages that’d become too restricting.

---