Ahead of me, Davis was chatting with a tall brunette I didn’t recognize. His gait and the way he held his head at an angle, chin tipped up all the time, sent blood rushing through my ears. He looked over in my direction, and our eyes met. A look of surprise crossed his face, and he paused his stride, then smirked. A chill wound up my spine as he raised his eyebrow, tipped his head slightly, then returned his gaze to his companion.
Terror stole my breath, and I took a few steps back, lingering in the doorway of a nearby building. My cheeks burned, and my heart thudded at that familiar, derisive expression.
He’s not supposed to be here.
The panic that coursed through my body was worse than it had been in years, and I struggled to keep myself from shaking as adrenaline flooded my system.
He and his companion laughed as they turned a corner and disappeared from my sight, but I worried he’d come back or wait for me. The image of him lingering by the car with no one around left my hands trembling, and I clasped them together. I never got around to taking that self-defense class.
Still, I didn’t move. Each time I’d run into him after we split, I’d cowered and tried to make myself invisible. That doesn’t belong in past tense. I’ve been trying to make myself invisible ever since.
I took a deep breath and tentatively stepped out of the doorway, glancing around and listening for voices from the parking lot. When I heard none, I grasped my phone and sprinted toward my car.
I wish Jake was here.
The thought ricocheted in my head. Jake thinks I’m strong and know what I want. I straightened my spine to tamp down the nervous energy threatening to overtake my body. When I reached my car, the lot was nearly empty, and Davis was nowhere in sight. Still, I slammed the car door and locked it within seconds. I didn’t take a full breath until I was out of the parking lot. Even then, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, as if he was watching me through the car windows, waiting and scheming.
* * *
My unease hadn’t settled by the time I stepped into the restaurant near Felicia’s where I was picking up food. Across the room, an older couple read a newspaper together and a young mother tried to wrangle a squirming toddler into a high chair. My heart clenched, and I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
I’d built my career by staying late, doing more, working longer hours than others, and leveraging everything I could. I didn’t regret it—I did, however, wonder who would read the paper with me when I was old and if I’d missed my window to have my own wriggling toddler.
Thirty-three’s not so old, is it?
I watched a group of teenagers giggling as a handsome waiter exited the kitchen carrying a tray of sizzling fajitas. A man in a suit behind them rolled his eyes and looked at his watch, a bit more dramatically than was necessary.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and an unknown number with an out-of-town area code flashed on the screen with a text.
Unknown: It was nice to see you today.
Unknown: Jill Jameson said she and you were discussing me.
Unknown: Good to know you’re still thinking of me, pretty girl.
I shivered and looked around the diner, but I knew he wasn’t hiding there somewhere. He didn’t have to. With those messages, I felt like he was standing next to me regardless.
Seventeen
Felicia’s kids had fled to the playroom after dinner, and we stretched out in her toy-strewn living room. A shock of hair from a doll’s head precariously dangled out the side hatch of a toy helicopter on the end table next to me. The chaos of their house was always calming.
I’d sat in the restaurant parking lot with my eyes tightly closed and my phone shoved in my bag, as if the darkness of my purse could swallow up the texts. I willed myself to calm down and put it out of my head. Felicia would know something was up in an instant if I didn’t lock away everything I was feeling, and I hated her worrying about me. Put on a happy face.
“Turner, you have no idea how bad I felt that both of us had to bail on you Tuesday.”
After playing with the kids and joking with Felicia, my body had relaxed. Even if my life was in tatters, their house was safe. “It’s okay. I understand. Aaron had to be with his mom, and I didn’t want to catch your stomach flu, that’s for sure.”
She groaned. “I don’t want to think about it. I even had to miss my workout with Wes the sexy trainer, and you know how bad it had to be for that to happen.”
Felicia never exercised when we were kids or through college. She was one of those annoying people who didn’t work out, gorged on whatever she wanted, and maintained a great figure. After the twins, though, she’d struggled to feel good about her body and started working out with a personal trainer. I was a little jealous—she looked great, of course, but she’d tell me about all the new things Wes was getting her to do: kickboxing, weight lifting, and even Pilates. I kind of wanted that, too.