Chapter Five
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Tina put down her teacup, her expression concerned as Kris pushed the creamy mushroom pasta around her dish. It wasn’t the first time Tina had asked her, and Kris’ feigned excuses weren’t getting her very far.
“Yeah.” Kris forced a smile. “Just tired, I guess. Pine had a go at me earlier, and it’s playing on my mind.”
That wasn’t strictly true, of course. Her professor’s reaction to the way Kris had behaved in class had been reasonable under the circumstances, but she needed to give Tina a reason that didn’t include the creepy new stalker she had acquired or the way Shaun had just obliterated her confidence.
All the time she’d spent waiting for Shaun’s reply, and all along, she’d meant nothing to him.
Less than nothing. What hurt even more than his rejection was the way she’d got it so wrong.
That inaccuracy had taken root inside her somewhere, festering and growing with intent to fracture her already shallow self-belief.
For that, she loathed him and herself for giving him that power over her.
Maybe one day she would consider telling Tina and Melanie about the Shaun saga—when she could finally laugh about the idiot—but in her present headspace, the shameful pain was too intense to talk about, let alone to find humor in.
When she did finally choose to confide in her friends, Liz and Cindy would be the first to hear her embarrassing woe.
Tina and Mel had only been Kris’ housemates for one term, and while they all got on great, she didn’t know them well enough to share the pain of her heartbreak.
Kris straightened in her seat at the analysis.
Heartbreak?
Was that what she was feeling?
More like smarting anger that she’d allowed the useless fool to string her along for so long.
I should have known better.
“Has that guy still not given you an answer about your thesis?” Tina sighed, and Kris nodded at the weary-sounding emotion in her voice.
One way or the other, men had certainly found ways to infuriate her of late.
“Not yet,” Kris admitted. “I don’t think today will have helped much.”
“Oh, screw him.” A crease appeared in Tina’s brow. “If he doesn’t want to work with you, then that’s his loss.” She thrust her cup into the air. “Here’s to us and our amazing futures—with or without Professor Pine’s help!”
“Thanks.” Kris chuckled at her friend’s passionate fervor, even if she doubted how well her career would go without Pine’s backing. “Here’s to us.” Putting down her fork, Kris raised her mug and joined Tina’s impromptu toast. “Thanks for making us dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” Tina’s lips curled. “Although you haven’t eaten much. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”
“I hope not.” Kris collected another pasta tube on her fork. “It’s just been a long day, and coming in late last night probably didn’t help.”
“Had a bit too much to drink, too, did you?” Placing down her cup and tucking back into the last of her meal, Tina winked at her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m glad I didn’t wake you,” Kris replied, deflecting her friend’s knowing question. “I could use an early night tonight.”
“Leave the rest if you’ve had enough.” Tina gestured to Kris’ half-eaten food. “It might make a decent cold lunch tomorrow if you refrigerate it.”
“Good thinking.” Kris put down her fork again. “Please don’t think it’s a reflection on your cooking, though. It’s excellent, really.”
“Don’t worry.” Rising from her place, Tina flashed her a grin as she picked up her empty dish and carried it to the dishwasher. “I’m pretty difficult to offend.”
“Leave the tidying,” Kris told her. “I’ll load the dishwasher. You did the cooking.”
“But you did the shopping,” Tina reminded her.
“What a good team we are.” Kris supped at her herbal tea. “Melanie’s lucky to have us.”
“Damn right.” Tina laughed. “But actually, it would help me if you could tidy up. Glen asked if I wanted to catch a film with him, and after our last ‘get to know you’ date, I’d really like to, you know… hold his hand in the dark.”
Despite Kris’ melancholy, her lips tugged at the way Tina expressed her desire for the sporty Glen.
Tina had only known him for a few weeks, but it was clear she couldn’t get enough of him.
Even though Shaun had snubbed Kris, she didn’t begrudge her housemate the opportunity for some joy.
Tina worked hard. They all did. She deserved a little pleasure.
“Go for it.” Kris signaled to the doorway. “Have fun.”
“You’re a star.” Tina pirouetted, blowing Kris a kiss from the doorway before she took a small bow.
Watching her dance out of sight, Kris had no choice but to laugh as she rose from the table to tidy up. It was impossible to be too sad when Tina was around.
***
Flicking off her phone, Kris stretched out on the sofa, her head rolling to check the large clock on the lounge wall.
20:10
She’d been watching online videos for more than an hour, and it was still only ten past eight?
It had been hours since Tina had left to meet Glen, and with Melanie not returning for the night, Kris was struck suddenly by how alone she was.
The whole point of house sharing was to have some ready-made friends to buoy her during the long winter nights.
As it was, though, she’d spent three of the last seven on her own, and the night before, she’d been out getting inebriated with Liz and Cindy.
Running her fingers through her hair, she blew out a breath.
It wasn’t as if she blamed Tina and Melanie for wanting to spend time with their respective beaus.
Far from it. Maddeningly, she was sure that if Shaun had been interested in seeing her again, Kris would have been happy to invest the time in him, so she understood her housemates’ motivations.
They were all postgrad students, but beneath the shiny exterior of academic success, it appeared that all that any of them craved was love.
And not just the carnal wave that washed over them in the initial flushes of a new relationship, but the tangible type that grounded them in something far greater than only themselves and their own ambitions. The kind that felt like home.
“Oh, stop it.” She tutted at the ridiculous, romanticized notions in her head.
That kind of connection looked good on paper, but she was smart enough to know it rarely existed in real life, and when it did, it took effort on the part of everyone involved.
Kris would do better concentrating on preparing for Pine’s next seminar and considering where to apply once she’d left education.
She should focus on the future, on her future, on what she wanted, but as it was, she was still licking her wounds about Shaun.
Whenever she envisaged her future, all she saw was the lack of anyone else in her life.
Yes, she had friends who meant a lot to her, but what she feared was a future without the kind of soul-aligned companion she used to read about in the romance novels she’d digested as a teenager.
“Serves me right for reading those books, I guess.”
She shrugged, considering flicking on the television in the corner of the room, but then decided against it. There would be nothing to watch anyway, and the last thing she wanted to do was fall asleep on the sofa.
“I should get that early night I was telling Tina about,” she said to no one in particular, but as she yawned and climbed to her feet, she already sensed she wasn’t going to do that.
Not eating much at dinner meant Kris’ hunger was starting to stir, and rather than being sensible and finishing the cold pasta Tina had prepared for her, her sights were already set on something naughtier.
“Pizza.” Her lips curled as she considered the loaded cheese and pepperoni variety she had in mind.
She could have one delivered from the large commercial pizza chain in town, but if she dashed out, she could grab herself a delicious small one from the place around the corner, save herself the delivery fee, and still enjoy the mushroom pasta for lunch the next day.
Mind made up, she grabbed her phone and purse before slipping on her boots and coat.
Pleased to see the jacket had largely dried from the downpour earlier, Kris yanked the zip up until it sat just under her chin and then wrapped her scarf around her neck to cover her throat.
January had brought its usual plummeting temperatures, but the cold and ice weren’t going to stop Kris from satisfying her desire for pizza.
If she couldn’t have Shaun or a gratifying sex life, then she’d find other ways to please herself.
Halfway to the pizza place and dodging iced puddles as best she could, she focused on the way melted cheese was going to soothe her Shaun issues.
She was surprised when the chime of an incoming text broke her concentration, and skidding along a patch of black ice, she paused by the closed newsagent to catch her breath and retrieve her device.
Her heart leapt at the sight of the unknown number. Her phone might not have recognized the origins of the new message, but after a day of correspondence, she most certainly did.
“Oh, no,” she groaned, backing herself against the metal shutters as she contemplated whether or not to just delete the missive.
One facet of her would have been much happier to enjoy her pizza in peace, without intrusion, but ignoring that instinct, she found herself flicking in to acknowledge whatever the enigmatic stranger had to say.
You shouldn’t be out here on your own at this time.
Adrenaline spiked at the disconcerting warning, her gaze flitting around the wintry street as though she expected to find its proprietor watching her.
Who are you?
She typed the message quickly, irritated at the chiding tone of the one she’d received and aware that the more she focused on her infuriation, the less she needed to acknowledge that, yet again, the unknown sender had known not only who she was, but where she was.
Stop messaging me.