Page 2 of Stalker's Pet

“And then what?” He sweeps his gaze up and down the relatively empty street.

The sun set hours ago, and it’s late Sunday evening. Nobody is out walking around right now because they are all probably at home with their families. At least that’s my guess.

“Oh, I don’t know. Call for a ride?”

“You get in cars with strangers?” I can tell from his expression and tone that he’s disappointed in my answer.

“Well, ah...” I lick my lips. “A Lyft or whatever doesn’t count.”

“It’s still a stranger,” he repeats.

“I guess,” I admit, but I’ve never thought of it that way.

“I’ll take you home.” He touches my elbow before pulling me out of the way of the door so he can close it. The next thing I know, he’s leading me around to the sidewalk.

I should tell him no and that I’m not taking a ride from him. At the very least, I can know on Lyft who is picking me up. I'm sure they conduct background checks and other procedures. Well, I hope they do.

Instead of arguing any of those points, I stand there watching as he pulls out his phone and taps on the screen.

"You only need your bag?" he asks before opening the passenger door. All of my crap is still dumped out in the passenger seat, and he starts to pick it up.

“I got it!” I exclaim and hurry over. In the process, I inadvertently bump him with my hip. Before he can see anything, I grab my notebook and quickly shove it down into my bag.

“All right.” He smirks and then watches as I proceed to cram the rest of it in there too.

“Okay, I think I got it all.” I turn around, nearly running into him. “Sorry.” I brush my hair out of my face, feeling flustered.

“Come on.” He takes my elbow again. “Give me the key.” I hand them over without a second thought. It’s not until I’m in the passenger seat of his SUV that I realize I have put myself in what some might call not the best situation.

“What's your name?” I finally ask.

“I got you all the way in my car before you even asked.”

“Stupid, I know. But I see you all the time, so I feel like I know you.”

“You don’t know me, princess.”

"Right." I fold my hands in my lap so that I don’t fidget. My stepmother hates that.

"It's Callum.” His voice is so soothing. “Now what's your address?"

I ramble it off, and he pulls away from the curb.

"I'm Tinsley," I tell him even though he didn’t ask.

"I know."

"You do?"

"They call it out in the coffee shop."

"Oh, yeah. They never say yours. Since you just get black coffee, they hand it right over."

"You’ve been watching me?" He lifts an eyebrow.

"What?" I suck in a breath. I’m so busted. "No, I mean, ah..."

“I’m teasing you, Tinsley.”

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