Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Izzy
My fist slams into rock-solid abs, and I stomp on his foot, trying to get loose, before I catch a glimpse of a shocked--but gorgeous--familiar male face staring down at me.
Noah Wilder grabs me even tighter, wincing, his big arms wrapping around me. “Izzy! Izzy. What’s going on?”
For a second I continue struggling against him, then look back, expecting something terrible…but there’s nothing there. Nothing at all except the overwhelming knowledge that whatever was chasing me is real. That it’s somewhere, even if I can’t see it right now.
And if it was hunting me for a long time, I don’t think it’s ever going to stop.
“Someone was chasing me.” My voice comes out broken, raspy.
His body tenses and his head snaps up as he looks behind me at the quiet, empty street. “Who?”
But as my gaze searches the shadows, I still find nothing.
My heartbeat still races in my ears, but that sense of impending doom eases. Maybe whoever it was saw Noah and ran?
Taking a shaky breath, I feel myself calming down. It’s not that I feel completely safe now, but there’s something about having a big guy like Noah beside me and no sign of something scary that makes what happened in the library feel like a bad dream.
I look up and meet Noah’s hazel eyes, and the tension between us changes. There’s nothing like finding yourself wrapped in the arms of the boy you’ve had a hopeless crush on since the fourth grade.
Even if it’s just because you’re losing your mind and he feels sorry for you.
Funny, because that was how we met back in fourth grade, too.
“I don’t know wha--who was chasing me,” I say.
He frowns and looks behind me again, but the street’s eerily silent. Slowly, he pulls away from me, but his hand lingers on my shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you home, make sure you get there safe.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised by his decision to walk me home, even though he’s a nice guy.
Maybe because this is the most attention Noah has paid me since we stopped being friends, not long after that damned spin the bottle game.
Maybe he just likes playing the knight to a damsel in distress.
That uncharitable thought makes me bite my inner cheek, feeling suddenly guilty.
Noah is a good guy. The best. That was why everyone loved him.
Everyone seemed to crowd around Noah Wilder, crowding me out.
But he’s here right now, his hand a warm weight on my shoulder, so I’m just going to enjoy him. Not think about how much I wish he was near me more.
I breathe in the sandalwood scent of his aftershave as the two of us head down the dark street. But with each step we take, that feeling that something is wrong grows.
I glance behind us every few steps. I want to run, to make him run too. I can't shake the feeling there’s something bad right behind us, watching us from the shadows. It’s all too easy for me to imagine the clomping thing from the library jumping out at him and tearing him away from me…
“Where were you when the person started chasing you??” he asks.
“The library.”
“The library?” His eyebrows rise. “The library closed three hours ago.”
“Believe me, I’m aware.” I rub my cheek absently, suddenly cognizant that I might have dried drool across my face. “I fell asleep.”
“Senior year finals really crushing you, huh?” he asks, and there’s a note to his voice that bugs me.
“No,” I say, my voice coming out acerbic. We’re both seniors. He doesn’t need to talk to me like I’m an idiot. But I don’t want to tell him what I was really doing either, so I just stop talking.
My hobbies include stalking the internet for any sign of the mother that abandoned me seemed like a bit much to drop on him now.
“So you were sleeping in the library and...”
“I heard something in the library with me.”
“Someone else was in the library after closing?” He whistles. “Geeks are getting wild.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I know that me falling asleep at the library was dumb, but given my panic he could be a little more sympathetic. He thinks this is a joke, but there’s nothing funny about my heart still pounding in my chest.
Whatever. He thinks it’s nothing, and most people would agree. From the outside, I look like a girl running from nothing. But I know better.
He must have registered the look on my face, because he purses his lips. “Sorry, Izzy. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it must have all been just my imagination. But that would be a lie.
Something is still watching me.
“What were you doing out tonight?” I ask, turning the focus onto him.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, which pushes the waistband of his jeans down his narrow hips, briefly revealing a sliver of his taut abs.
Noah Wilder, the star of the Lorton High soccer and basketball teams, has a perfect set of six-pack abs.
As just about every girl in Lorton High has noticed. Including me, damn it.
It takes me a second to realize he’s stalling, trying to figure out what to tell me. As if he’s embarrassed.
“A girl, huh?” I say, trying to keep the judgement out of my voice… and failing. The kids at school call him Wilder for a reason, and it isn’t just because it’s his last name.It’s the perfect adjective for him.
Noah Wilder’s always been at the core of a group of four guys--four very attractive but very different guys--that everyone calls the Wilder boys. Just thinking about them makes me bite my lip. Once upon a time, they were my best friends. All four of them.
“What? No.” He frowns. “I was studying at the coffee house ‘til they closed. Some of us aren’t brilliant like you. Some of us actually have to stay awake and study.”
There’s a teasing note in his voice that sends a flutter through my chest. Is sexy Wilder actually teasing me? Or was he just making fun of me?
I’d probably be obsessing at 2am this morning over the possibility that Noah Wilder thought I was smart. Even though obsessing over him was definitely...not-smart.
The sleek, black lines of a sports car rise in my peripheral vision along the road like something out of a dream. Van. The butterflies in my chest flutter harder. What are the chances he’ll spot his friend and drive past? Dealing with him is the last thing I need right now.
Van’s always so cold and sarcastic and in control. He’s my polar opposite. I have to be in the right mood to keep up with Van.
But hey, maybe if Van can take us home, it’ll give us a better chance to ditch the malevolent force that I’m sure is dogging my heels…
Of course, Van has never, in his life, asked the weird foster girl to get in his ride. He doesn’t have Noah’s soft side. He doesn’t have any soft side.
He’s one of the four boys that I have to see constantly. Noah. Van. Reid. Aiden. Four best friends, all gorgeous and smart and magnetic. Reid and Aiden are twins, my next-door neighbors.
They’re all perfect.
They all ignore me.
It’s pure freaking torture.
“Hey, man,” Van says, ignoring me. “You want a ride home?”
“I’m walking Izzy.”
Van glances at me. “She can come.”
Van stops the car in the middle of the empty street. The traffic light is blinking yellow half a block ahead. It isn’t like there is anyone else around. But it’s just like Van to take up the road and not think twice.
Van’s Audi R8 is a two-door, but I didn’t know it was a two-seater until Noah slides into the passenger seat and looks at me expectantly.
“You want me to sit in your lap?” I demand. It’d been a very long night, and there was a hint of hysterical laughter in my voice. Tonight was surreal, and not just because I’d been chased by some kind of...thing…that I wasn’t sure was even human.
“It’s just a few miles,” Noah says impatiently. “Van will drive slow.”
Van smirks at that.
Safety is not my objection. But I’m not going to tell Noah what my problem is.
Reluctantly, I come to the door of the car. I can’t figure out how to gracefully enter the low-slung car to park myself onto his lap. Did I really have to back up to the door, my ass in Noah’s face?
Down the street, I catch a glimpse of something.
Something moving under the streetlights, a flicker of darkness that disrupts the light but that isn’t quite there.
And I hear the faintest clomp.
I slam my ass down into that car without hesitation. Noah lets out a small oof. I grab the door handle, swing the car door shut, and say, “Go!”
Van’s smirking lips part to say something as Noah slides his arm around my waist.
“Go, Van!” I say. “Jesus, is this car good for anything besides making out with girls when you’re supposed to be in Lit with me? Drive.”