Page 26 of Love Me Stalk Me

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I hold my breath as she lingers on the selection screen, the tension making my muscles ache.

She selectsgreen.

It's not in my head. It's real. Does she even realize what she’s doing? She's not picking some fantasy man out of thin air. She's building the closest version of me that she can.

She must not realize it. It's not because she actually wantsme. She doesn't even know me. I'm just the first person who's noticed her, made her eat, told her she deserves more than the mistreatment she puts up with. Maybe that's all this is—a subconscious response to someone finally paying attention.

And it's not like she'sactuallylooking for someone else. She has a boyfriend. Aterribleboyfriend, one who barely sees her, but a boyfriend nonetheless.

This isn't about me.

Itcan'tbe.

And yet?—

I lean back in my chair, dragging a hand down my face, feeling the heat in my skin. It’s a bad habit.

And this is dangerous territory.

This isn't just a distraction for her. She's giving herself what she actually wants. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

What Does He Call You?

I sit up straighter, my entire body going still as the next screen loads. This question cuts deeper than the others.

This is personal.

Pet names aren't random. They aren't meaningless phrases you just pick out of thin air. They reveal what a person craves, what makes them feel wanted, what gets under their skin in the most intimate way.

They tell you how they want to beseen.

I lean forward, watching as the default options appear first.

Babe

Sweetheart

Love

Angel

Darling

All standard. Generic. Terms a man uses when he's justgoing through the motions, not really seeing the woman in front of him.

But she doesn't pick any of them.

Instead, she taps the blank field. A space to type her own. I exhale slowly. This will tell me what makesher tick.

This will tell me what she wants.

She hesitates, just for a moment. Like this is the hardest decision of all.

Then, slowly, she types?—

Pretty girl.

I don't move.

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