Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
LANI
By mid-afternoon, I know I’m not fine.
It starts with chills that won’t leave, even wrapped in a hoodie with the kettle boiling for the third time. My skin feels wrong – too tight, too sensitive – like every nerve is turned up just a fraction too high.
I tell myself it’s exhaustion. Adrenaline crash. Too much sun, too little sleep. Or maybe I caught a cold from being out in the rain last night. Not that you can catch a cold from being cold, but you know, I feel like crap.
Normal things.
Still, I can’t get warm.
I curl up on the sofa with a blanket and my phone, but the screen makes my head throb. My stomach rolls unpleasantly, nausea blooming and receding in slow waves.
Annoyed, I push myself up for water.
The house smells strange.
Not bad. Just…loud? Sharp. Like the air itself is crowding me.
The glass slips in my hand as dizziness hits. I catch myself on the counter, heart racing, pulse fluttering under my skin like something trapped.
Okay.
Not fine.
My fingers drift to my neck without thinking.
The skin there is hot. Aching. The awareness has spread – not just pain, but insistence. Like my body keeps circling back to that one point, waiting for something to finish what was started.
That thought makes my stomach drop.
I shouldn’t feel like this.
I never feel like this.
The meds have always kept things level. Predictable. My body doesn’t do surprises.
Except now it is.
I retreat back to the sofa, curling tight beneath the blanket. The house suddenly feels too big. Too empty. The silence presses in, thick and wrong.
At least I’ve got the day off. I cling to that small mercy, even as the knot in my stomach tightens at the thought of tomorrow – of turning up like this, because I’m too new to risk not turning up at all.
I don’t want to be alone.
The realisation steals my breath.
Not lonely.
Alone.
The thought of Koa the day I met him – of someone solid and there – hits harder than it should.
I unlock my phone without thinking. Finn’s name sits there. So does Koa’s – still unresolved, still awkward. After I decided to give him another chance, we exchanged numbers and he’s sent me a couple of texts since, but I’ve not replied since becoming unwell.
My stomach twists, something low and unsettled pulling tighter at the sight of his name.
I don’t even know which version of him I’d get. The soft and caring boy I initially fell for, or the cocky playboy I should probably forget about yet can’t seem to let go.
I don’t open either message. I just stare at the screen, fingers hovering, hesitating, as my body buzzes with a restless need I can’t name.
This isn’t about sex. That’s the furthest thing from my mind when I feel like this. And it’s not just that I want someone here with me for company. It’s that something in me keeps circling back to him – even when I’m not sure I like him. It’s deeper than…anything I’ve ever experienced before.
Quieter. More frightening.
And that’s why I do nothing. Because I’m terrified.
But as evening creeps closer, the ache in my neck throbs in time with my pulse. Heat pools low in my belly despite the chills wracking my spine. My thoughts scatter, sliding sideways, looping back to sensation instead of logic.
Touch. Warmth. Proximity.
Not random. Not just anyone.
Need.
I don’t remember falling asleep.
Only that when I do, I dream of running again – not from fear, but longing. Of footsteps behind me that never quite catch up. Of a presence just out of reach.
And when I wake, sweating and disoriented, one truth settles heavy and undeniable in my chest: Something has been set in motion.
And I don’t think I can stop it.