Chapter 6 – Reese #2
His entire body was pressing into mine. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think with him this close, and then he slid one hand from the shelf and trailed it across my chest, laying his palm flat against my pounding heart.
His other hand disappeared, there were a few tugs on my backpack, and the whole time, Dakota’s lips were right by my ear.
He made a small sound in the back of his throat, then laughed, and all the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I shivered.
“Got it.”
Except he didn’t move. His hand was still pressed against my heart, his body a solid weight against mine.
“Why’s your heart beating so fast?”
The whispered words had the roughest texture, like old cracked leather. They abraded all my nerve endings, the friction drawing heat from the coldest parts of me.
“Reese?”
The way he said my name in that rough, smoky voice set all that heat ablaze. I felt it start in my chest, rush up my throat, then spread across my face, the tips of my ears burning so hot I couldn’t stand it.
He stepped back, and I darted toward the stairs, running down the elaborately carved, ancient wooden staircase that creaked under every step.
Why was he everywhere I went? Was he following me? Or was it just another coincidence?
I didn’t even know why I was running away from him, because we were roommates, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like I could avoid him; I was only postponing the inevitable, or, at the very least, staving off an interaction that would’ve happened regardless of the when and where.
I stopped briefly at the front desk to check out one of the books I’d gotten, gave the girl who helped me a smile, then left.
When I got outside, the sun was creeping behind the buildings. The sound of footsteps behind me was like nails on a chalkboard, and when Dakota’s boots appeared beside my worn-out sneakers, I sighed.
“Want me to carry your backpack for you?”
His question caught me so off guard that I stumbled over nothing, then looked up at him. “What?”
He nodded his head toward my back. “It looks pretty heavy. I could carry it if you want.”
I didn’t understand him one goddamn bit. He goaded me at every turn, and now he was offering to help me in some way? He must have some kind of ulterior motive, because none of what he said or did made any sense.
He’d probably run off with it and laugh. Not that I would ever let him carry my bag for me.
“No. Stop following me.”
“I’m not following you, we’re just going in the same direction.”
“Go in a different direction.”
“Why don’t you smile at me like that?”
I glanced up at him and looked away as soon as our eyes met. I didn’t want to be drawn into them and get stuck again. “What are you talking about?”
“You smiled at that girl.”
“What girl?”
“The one in the library. At the front desk.”
“So?”
“So you don’t smile at me.”
“Why would I smile at you?” I started walking faster to try and lose him, but he just kept pace with me.
“I saved your life.”
“You saved my—” I stopped walking and stared up at him in bewilderment. “My life wasn’t in danger, so stop fucking saying that.”
He tutted and shook his head. “I disagree. You read and ignored a clearly marked sign that was there for a reason, which you found out the hard way. Are you so sure you would’ve been able to get out of that on your own if I hadn’t followed you?”
As Dakota stared down at me, I couldn’t even find any words to argue with him properly because he was so delusional that it would be pointless.
“So you did fucking follow me. Why? Huh? What kind of creepy stalker shit is that? And you’re doing it again!”
His eyes drifted over every inch of my face, like he was trying to find a reason. And while he was looking so intently at me, I let my own gaze move over his scar. Those freckles. Lips that looked soft and were a pale pink.
Those lips moved when he said, “Because you looked lonely.”
I hadn’t been expecting that. And because I wasn’t ready for the sting of the truth, it sank deeper and spread until every part of me ached.
I had no response to that and now that I was hurting, I needed to get away. To go try and pluck the thorns of his words out from my skin.
I turned on my heel and took a path that looked like it wound between two buildings. I had no idea where it would take me, I just wanted to get away from him.
Except I couldn’t.
Dakota trailed behind me down the path like a vulture following a wounded animal.
When it suddenly curved left and disappeared into a wooded area, I stopped walking and stared at the darkness lurking between the trees.
The sun had almost fully set now, and even though the campus had lights along the pathways, there weren’t any lights in those trees.
It wouldn’t be very smart to head into those woods with Dakota on my heels.
The snick of a lighter pulled my attention away from the woods and back to Dakota, who had a cigarette between his lips.
The flame from the gold Zippo in his hands lit up his face, flickering over his scar and making his freckles more pronounced.
When the cigarette was lit, he flicked his hand and the Zippo snapped shut, and he slid it into his pocket as he took a drag.
“That’s a shortcut back to our building,” he said, exhaling smoke as he spoke.
Was it? Or was he lying, trying to lure me into the dark so he could…
I shook my head. If he really wanted to hurt me, he could do it anytime when we were alone in our room together.
And he hadn’t. Besides, he didn’t even like the dark.
“Are you afraid? I’ll walk with you.” Smoke poured from his nostrils as he watched me with those deep brown eyes.
I thought what bothered me most was that I couldn’t get a read on him. Every time he spoke, he either sounded entirely indifferent or deeply intrigued.
He’d say things to purposely rile me up, and then say something else that was so genuine, like it was an honest, unfiltered thought that had entered his mind and then slipped past his lips not a moment later.
Nothing about him made sense—he was chaotic and confusing. What had he done in the past that made his dad have some nobody scholarship student spy on him? The more time I spent with him, the less I wanted to know.
“No,” I said, turning and leaving him behind me, heading into the dark woods alone.
He didn’t follow.
Three days later, I hadn’t seen very much of Dakota and was slowly getting acclimated to my new life.
I spent most of the free time I had in the library and the practice rooms. Ashbrook had soundproof studio booths that the musicians could sign up to rent out for an hour at a time, and I’d already done that a few times this week just to practice and chip away some of the rust. Playing again came easily, and a lot of it was muscle memory, but the psychological aspect of it—the lack of emotional drive—was a more difficult barrier to get over.
I was tired, too. Today had been long and seemingly endless, and all I wanted was to wash up and crawl into bed.
Luckily, when I got back to my room, Dakota wasn’t there. Not yet, at least.
I threw my bag at the foot of my bed and shut the blinds on my side of the room, grabbed clean clothes and a towel, and headed into the bathroom.
I must’ve checked the door at least ten times to make sure it was locked, but I was still uneasy. I’d feel better with three deadbolts and a chain, but I’d have to make do with a paltry push-button lock for now.
I started the shower and stepped under the spray when the water was warm enough. I was halfway through washing my hair when the high notes of a violin sounded from just beyond the door.
A cold sensation skittered across my skin, and I stilled.
No.
No.
I shut off the water as a volatile fury exploded through my system.
I stumbled out of the shower, grabbed my towel and frantically wrapped it around my waist, then yanked the door open to find Dakota sitting on his bed, violin tucked under his chin, eyes closed as he dragged the bow across the strings.
He was playing my violin.
My violin. The one Mom bought me right before—
There was nothing in my mind but a black mist of rage as I rushed toward him. He opened his eyes and moved the violin out of my path right before I fisted the front of his shirt in both hands.
“You asshole!”
I’d flown at him so hard and fast that he fell back onto the bed, his eyes locking onto mine, wide with surprise. “What—”
“Why would you do that?!” I cried.
“I didn’t—”
“What is wrong with you, you bastard?!”
“Reese—”
“That’s m-mine!” I squeezed my fists tighter. “That violin is the only thing I give a shit about on this Earth, and you—you—”
A tear dropped onto Dakota’s cheek and rolled down the side of his face, and then my vision blurred when more came.
Another one fell onto his bottom lip, and I glanced down as his pink tongue slowly slid out and licked it away.
I was breathing so hard that I was wheezing, on the verge of hyperventilating, and as the explosive anger began to dissipate, melting away into a sad exhaustion that made my bones feel heavy, Dakota stared into my eyes with a fervency that sucked the rest of my waning energy away.
“That’s not your violin, Reese. It’s mine,” he said softly. The natural harshness of his voice rasped against my soul in an almost soothing way, and I was so lost in his eyes that his words took a moment to break through the cacophony of despair in my mind.
I let out a breath as I trembled on top of him, and when I glanced over at his left hand, where he was still holding the neck of the violin, I finally noticed that it really wasn’t mine. The wood was cherry, not spruce and maple, and it was missing the chipped edging and scuff marks on the sides.
“What…” When I brought my gaze back to Dakota’s, he was watching me with a quiet intensity. “You play the…you have…a…”
Shame, humiliation, and anguish sloshed in my chest; a horrible mix of emotions that all piled on top of a tremendous guilt and disgust for myself.