Kincaid
I ’ve crossed a line.
Several lines, probably.
And I don’t give a fuck. I’d cross them again in a heartbeat because my messed up behavior means I get to see Lilah every single day.
She may not know it, but I’m there. Watching. Observing. Falling.
The party was only four days ago, and in that time I’ve gone from intrigued to full on obsessed. I follow Lilah Ferguson on social media. I know who her friends are, and what classes she’s taking. I even know her schedule because I watch as she leaves her dad’s house in the morning. She takes the TTC, which makes it a little hard to follow her in my Mercedes, but I know which stop she gets off at, so I wait there. I watch her walk to class. I watch her get an enormous tea from the Tim Hortons on campus. I watch her disappear into the library.
Every second that I’m not at the rink, I’m Lilah’s. Her guardian, her protector.
And let’s be honest. Her stalker.
And instead of feeling guilty, all I feel is the emptiness of this secret closeness. It’s not enough, as much as I try to convince myself that it is. Because I can’t let myself get closer than this. Not only is Lilah fourteen years younger than me, she’s the coach’s daughter, and anyone with two brain cells to rub together knows that’s a recipe for disaster.
But a little light stalking? That’s fine. Totally fine.
It’s not. I know that. But now that I’ve seen Lilah, talked to her, felt her hand on my arm…I don’t know how to walk away. Maybe with time, my obsession will fade.
Right, and maybe the sky will turn green right before it rains donuts.
I park my car a few blocks from campus and walk the rest of the way, the October sunshine warm on my skin as I tug my cap low over my eyes. I had practice this morning, so I couldn’t follow her to campus, but I’m here now, and I know that she’s between classes, which means she’s probably in the library.
I make my way through the pretty campus, students walking and talking in groups, some set up on the central lawn to soak up the sun. My heart is pounding in my chest in anticipation of seeing her, even if it’s just from a distance. I’ve never stalked anyone before, but with Lilah I feel as though I have no choice.
Lilah emerges from the library, her backpack slung over her slender shoulders, a few thick books in her arms. I lean casually against a tree, my phone out so it looks like I’m scrolling instead of stalking. She’s wearing a pair of leggings that hug her hips and ass and a cropped hoodie, exposing a sliver of her toned stomach.
Blood immediately flows to my cock. Filthy thoughts race through my mind at the sight of her, depraved things I want to do to this girl who’s way too young for me.
She hefts the books in her arms, her blond hair loose and shifting over her shoulders, glinting like gold in the early afternoon sun.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. So beautiful I can hardly breathe when I look at her.
Lilah walks down the library steps, lips pursed as though she’s deep in thought. She heads in my direction, and I shift back against the tree, tugging my cap as far down as it’ll go, eyes on my phone.
But even though I’m not looking, I can feel it in my bones as she gets closer. It’s like a vibration I can’t ignore.
“?” she asks in that gorgeously soft voice.
I freeze, heart hammering against my ribs.
Busted.
Slowly, I lift my head, trying to push down the panic rising inside me, clamping around my lungs like a vise. “Oh, Lilah. Hey.” I try to keep my voice casual. God, I am so full of shit.
She blinks up at me with those huge green eyes. “What are you doing here?”
For one insane second, I think about telling her the truth. That I’ve been following her ever since the night of the party because every second I’m not near her is fucking agony.
Obviously, I can’t say any of that.
“I was in the area, thought I’d grab a coffee and stretch my legs. It’s a nice campus,” I say after a moment.
There. That sounds legit enough.
“Oh,” she says, smiling shyly at me. She shifts the books in her arms. “It’s, um. I’m…that’s cool,” she stammers, a blush creeping up her cheeks and towards her hairline.
Christ, her sweet shyness turns me on so much.
“It’s nice to see you again,” I say, glad that this time I’m able to be honest.
She bites her lip and nods. “Yeah. You too.” And then her gorgeous green eyes take a slow walk down my body that has my blood turning to lava in my veins. I wonder if she can see the outline of my cock pressing against my dark jeans. If she can, she doesn’t react. “Um. Well. I should get to class.”
I almost blurt that I know she has project management right now, but instead I push off of the tree. “Can I walk you?”
Her face lights up, and she nods. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
We fall into step together, and I have to adjust my strides to keep in step with her. She’s so much smaller than me. Granted, I’m 6’4 and well over two hundred pounds, so most people are smaller than me. But I’m more than a foot taller than Lilah. Probably nearly a hundred pounds more than her.
That turns me on, too.
The breeze picks up, and I catch the scent of something sweet and fruity. Strawberries, maybe. The wind blows her hair, and she tucks the wayward strands behind her ear. I catch the scent again, and I wonder if it’s her shampoo. It makes me want to bury my face in all of that silky hair and breathe her in.
“So, what class do you have?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Project management,” she answers, and shifts the books in her arms. Wordlessly, I reach out and take them from her. She shoots me a grateful smile.
“Do you like it?”
She tilts her head, considering. “It’s…okay. Not my fave, but not the worst.”
“Which one’s the worst?”
“Risk analysis. It’s very dry.” She sighs. “And the prof is so anal.”
Hearing Lilah say the word “anal” does something to me, and I almost stumble.
“That does sound dry,” I say a moment later. I’m hyper aware of how close she is, her arm brushing against mine every few steps as we walk from one end of the quad to the other. “Are you still planning on coming to the game tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, I am.” She shoots me another of those shy smiles, and my entire body is screaming at me to pull Lilah against me and kiss her. To find out if her lips are as soft and sweet as they look. I want to push her up against the nearest tree and feel all of those soft curves pressed against me as I claim her mouth.
But somehow, miracle of miracles, I manage to keep it together, my cock throbbing in my jeans.
“I’m actually really looking forward to it,” she says, glancing over at me.
Fuck, she’s adorable. And sexy. And I want her so badly I can hardly see straight. But I can’t do anything about it. I shouldn’t even be here right now.
She bites her lip as she peers up at me, drawing my attention to her mouth that looks like it was made for me. Soft pink, plump lips that I’d murder someone to see wrapped around my aching cock.
“With you cheering us on, I’m sure we’ll kick some serious ass,” I tease, and she blushes.
“I’ll do my best. I’m not the loudest, but I’ll make sure I scream every time you have the puck.” Her cheeks are the sweetest shade of pink as she flirts with me.
This is the best day of my fucking life.
“Well, in that case, I’ll make sure to hog the puck all night so I can hear you screaming my name.”
Our steps stutter to a stop and her eyes meet mine. Her chest is rising and falling in rapid little breaths, and lust sears through me like lightning.
I probably shouldn’t have said that. Because now I can’t stop thinking about all of the ways I could make Lilah scream my name.
God, I’m in so fucking deep with a girl I should forget about.
She clears her throat softly and gestures at a nearby building. “Well, um. This is me.” A smile lights up her face as she peers up at me again. I like the way she has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. “Thanks for walking me. I’m glad I ran into you.” The words are quiet, almost snatched away by the campus sounds around us.
“Me too, Lilah.”
For a moment, we stand there staring at each other, eyes locked. The pull between us is so strong. It’s like a physical tether I can feel drawing me toward her. I clench everything—my jaw, my fists, my stomach—to fight down the overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss her.
“I…should get to class,” she says softly, and I swallow hard and take a step back. It physically hurts to move away from her.
“Right. Of course.”
“I’ll see you at the game tomorrow.” She hesitates before turning and walking toward the building where her class is. I stand there staring at her for a long moment before I force myself to walk away.
“Enough,” I growl to myself as I stalk back in the direction of my car. “You’ve gotta stop this.”
But I know I won’t. I know I’ll be waiting for Lilah when her class is over, that I’ll follow her to make sure she gets home safe.
Because she’s mine.