Chapter 9 Noah
Noah
I squint into the morning sunlight as I cross the quad.
It’s a perfect summer morning, and there are literally dewdrops on the fucking blades of grass as I cut through the path toward the Humanities building for my Ancient Civ class.
I made a salted caramel cappuccino to take with me before I left the house, and I got the foam just right this time. The espresso is a new batch that’s delicious, and the caffeine is hitting just in time for my class.
But everything feels wrong.
Like I’m two steps away from walking over a landmine at all times.
It’s a similar feeling that I got last week behind the loading dock, and even though I’ve been fine all week, the gnawing feeling in my chest just keeps worsening.
I keep feeling like I’m being watched.
Roman has insisted he’s taking care of things all week, but I still can’t walk by Colossus Dining Hall without glancing toward the back lot.
I’m starting to see things, too.
A black SUV came around the upper curve of Red Row earlier this morning and I started to freak the fuck out internally, almost turning around and going back to the house. But when it drove by, it was just a couple of girls from Luros House taking an Uber back from a coffee shop.
And now, as I’m on the sidewalk approaching the Humanities building, there’s been another black car trailing behind me on the little road that cuts through the south end of campus.
I swear it’s following me.
Every time I look back, I can’t see through the tinted windows.
But it’s driving so slow, under the speed limit, and I can’t shake the idea that there's something wrong about it.
As sunlight pours through the leafy canopy of the quad, I’m waiting for it to make me feel normal again.
I approach the tall building and slip my phone out of my pocket as I’m walking.
There’s a message.
And the moment I see that it’s not from Stepbrother Psychotic a little jolt in my blood fizzles away.
Why the fuck would Torin text me, anyway?
And why would I expect him to?
But when I open the text, a different sort of cold fear shoots through me.
Unknown Number: Noah Cedric Vancliff, we have unfinished business.
My chest clenches.
My full name.
Including my middle name that almost no one knows.
Who the fuck is this?
The image of the man from the loading dock flashes through my mind, and suddenly, I hear a roaring engine behind me.
The black car suddenly guns it down the rest of the road, makes a sharp left at the light, and speeds off down toward the campus exit, disappearing.
Shit.
I freeze on the sidewalk.
My heart is pounding.
My hand shakes as I navigate to Roman in my phone contacts and give him a call.
“Noah,” he answers.
“Roman. There was a black car following me,” I tell him.
“Fuck. The same black car as the other night?”
“No. Different. Smaller, but it was a Benz. It was on the south road, just below the quad.”
“I’m going to drive down there now. Are you safe?”
“I’m fine. I think, at least. I’m about to go to my Ancient Civ class.”
He hums. “You’ll be safe in the classroom. That’s probably why no one got out of the car. It’s broad daylight, and campus is busy.”
I exhale. “Okay. You sure I shouldn’t, like, go to the police?”
“Definitely not,” he says. “I’m leaving now. I’ll keep you updated. Stay safe, Noah.”
I hang up, glancing all around me again like I’m expecting guys to suddenly fall out of the trees and shove a black bag over the top of my head.
But it’s fine.
Peaceful again, honestly.
Fucking weird morning this has been.
I woke up with morning wood so hard I swore it could put a hole through my sheets, similar to the way I’ve been waking up every morning this week.
And the fucked up thing is that I wasn’t even dreaming about sex.
I couldn’t remember most of my dream, but the core of it was something weirder.
I was just dreaming about being touched. Not even on my dick at first, but just a warm embrace from behind, being touched by hands that were… strong. Capable. Something I’m not used to, and that made me stiff as fuck in the dream and in real life, apparently.
I woke up, showered, and tried to shove it away.
But when I ran into Torin in the kitchen like I do each morning at breakfast, I couldn’t keep it together.
He’s kept his promise.
He hasn’t shown up at my door, or come into my room at night, or even barely spoken to me at all this week.
He said it would be a one-time thing and…
It was.
It’s been seven days now and he hasn’t so much as made a single sexual joke.
Something bumps into me from behind suddenly and I gasp, turning around fast like I was burned.
“Holy fuck,” I say, whipping around.
It’s not an attacker.
I let out a long breath.
It’s not even a stranger.
It’s Bree Harris, and she looks just as surprised to see me.
“Sorry,” she says. “Noah! I didn’t know you were here for the summer.”
She glances down at my phone and I lock it fast, shoving it in my pocket.
“Fuck, I am glad to see you, Bree,” I tell her, not mentioning that it’s because I was afraid there was a killer behind me instead.
“Glad to see you too. You look great.”
“Heading into my first class. Ancient Civ 201,” I tell her, forcing myself to smile even though I just got a text that’s still putting a shiver down my spine.
Her eyes go wide and she smiles. “I’m in that class, too. Fuck, I’m so glad. I need a study buddy.”
Bree is one of those people who seems to look better every time you see her. Her brown hair is in two braids and she’s wearing a beautiful yellow summer dress that’s tight as hell around her curves, but still somehow tasteful.
If it were a normal day, I’d be able to launch back into a hopeless crush on her just from seeing that dress, but…
Again.
Weird fucking week.
Back in high school, we were just fuck buddies.
After the rooftop incident where we got caught, she distanced herself from me for a few months, but then we had a bad habit of falling into each other’s beds after campus parties in freshman year of college.
Both times I asked her if she’d be my girlfriend, she declined.
It fucked with my head both times, too.
Bree’s parents are both successful, wealthy cardiac surgeons who are deeply involved with Dad’s volunteer work, and I’ve known Bree since we were in elementary school. Dad has never hidden the fact that he thinks Bree and I would be perfect for each other.
I used to think so, too.
Still don’t know what the hell I want to do with my life, and Bree is an academic superstar who will be an incredible surgeon one day.
She deserves the world.
“You remember the first day of chem lab, sophomore year?” Bree asks me as I join her in walking up the steps into the building.
I scratch the back of my head. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, I’d rather not remember that.”
“It was a little bit fun, you have to admit. Everyone in class loved you for it. Bringing a flask full of tequila and secretly passing it around during class is every college kid’s dream.”
“I never should have done that.”
She hums. “But we had fun afterward.”
I fucked her behind that building after class, up against a goddamn air conditioning unit.
We were both tipsy and at the time, nothing in my life felt like it had any real consequences.
“I’m a changed man now, Bree. If my sophomore self met me, he’d call me a fucking boring snooze.”
“Not a fan of sex anymore?” she jokes.
“I haven’t been drinking, actually.”
Her eyebrows shoot upward. “You’re joking.”
“I am not.”
We both take seats near the middle of the classroom. The chairs and desks are all wooden and surprisingly comfortable, and one by one, more students are filtering into the room.
“Noah, I had no idea,” she says, reaching out to squeeze my forearm. “That’s amazing. God. My ass was over here talking about tequila when you’ve actually made a huge change in your life.”
“You’re fine. Seriously.”
She pauses for a moment, watching me like she’s a proud mother or something before sliding out of her chair and coming over to wrap her arms around me in a hug.
I’m surprised by the sudden show of affection.
Her light floral scent surrounds me, and her breasts are pushed up against me in a way that would usually get me hard in two seconds flat.
For once, though, I just feel calm, almost familial affection for her.
I’m glad she’s proud but I’m not trying to leverage it into hoping she’ll finally want to date me.
Last year, I’d probably be halfway into thinking about future engagement rings by now if Bree Harris was giving me this many positive signals.
She presses a kiss to the side of my head before leaning back and sitting down in her chair.
My phone buzzes in my pocket a few moments later, and my chest hardens again immediately, bracing for the worst.
But I swipe up to see the message on my screen and I go molten.
Torin texted me for the first time all week.
Stepbrother Psychotic: She’s gorgeous, but she doesn’t kiss you like I do.
My heart lurches in my chest and I lift my head. I swivel as I look around the room, searching the faces for him.
Torin’s not in this class, though.
I can’t see him anywhere, actually, and when I look out the tall, paned windows toward the quad, all I see is endless shrubs, green grass, and students milling around under the trees.
Holy shit.
He’s watching me somehow.
And if he’s been watching the whole time I was walking to class, that means I was safer than I realized when the black car was following me.
He finally shows himself, outside, walking around the edge of one of the stone statues at the side of the quad.
He gives me a little nod, looking right at me through the window.
He’s in a heather gray T-shirt and black running shorts, and as he leans up against the side of the statue, the muscles of his thighs are on full display. His hair is tucked behind his ears, and something about him almost looks regal as he casually stands there, looking at me.