Page 5 of Stalker's Pet

“Is that why you didn’t call him first?” he asks, leaning back in his chair. Callum is once again dressed in all black. It really does suit him.

“He’s busy.” I shrug.

“No one should be too busy for their little girl.”

The way the words little girl roll off his tongue makes it sound dirty, erotic even. Maybe I’ve been reading too many romance novels, so I pretend to ignore it. I pick up my hot chocolate and take a sip so I don’t blurt out how much I like the idea of being called that.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll be leaving soon enough,” I say and try not to sigh.

“And where is it you think you’re going?” It doesn’t sound like he’s asking me a question. It sounds like he’s accusing me of breaking the rules.

I shift in my seat as the sensation of being in trouble creeps through me. It’s not fear, though. It’s something else, and I can’t put a name to it.

“Um, college?” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Don’t fidget. My stepmother's words push through my mind like an intrusive thought, and I quickly put my hand in my lap.

“Do you want to go to college?”

“I want to move out,” I blurt before I can think of a more poised response. “And you know, get an education and all.”

“Education and all?” He smirks.

“I’ll need to get a job one day.”

“Not necessarily.”

“True, but my stepmother would die if I got a job somewhere like here.” Honestly, I don’t think she ever wants me to have a job. She wants me to marry rich.

Getting married and having a family of my own sounds like a dream, but I don’t want the kind of marriage she and my father have in mind. I don’t want what they have. I want so much more and for my relationship with my husband not to be transactional like theirs.

"She'd die if you got a job?"

"She would be embarrassed if I worked at a coffee shop. For the sake of appearances, it would make her look bad. I wouldn't mind a job." At least it would provide me with something to occupy my time and an excuse to be out of the house. Instead of lingering at the library or sitting here all day.

“What if she didn’t know about it?”

“Like a secret?” I whisper playfully.

“I suppose.”

"It would have to be out of the public eye. Someone could see me.”

“I’m sure that’s possible.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I could hire you.”

“Really? You’d do that?” He said it so casually like it would be easy for him to do.

“It could be our little secret,” he whispers back.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Why does everything he says sound so dirty? My mind must be in the gutter. I know he’s not hitting on me. I’m letting my crush on him cloud things.

“What do you even do?” I laugh. I know nothing about this man, but if he’d let me, I’d learn everything about him. I’m already so familiar with the details of his face that I could draw him perfectly with my eyes closed.

“Finance,” he says, and I snort. I quickly cover my mouth with my hand at the not-so-ladylike sound. “What’s so funny?” He gives me a full smile this time, and somehow he’s even handsomer than before.

“It’s like the TikTok sound. You know the one that’s like, ‘I'm looking for a man in finance. Trust fund, six-five, blue eyes. Finance, trust fund, six-five.’” I sing the song with the same voice as the one I’ve heard a million times.

“Are you looking for a man, princess?” He leans forward, making my breath hitch.

No words leave me, which is unusual because I’m never at a loss for words. In fact, I always have too many. Instead of speaking, I simply nod my head. I didn’t know I was looking for anyone until the day he walked into the coffee shop.

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