Page 3 of Dead Pretty

The stranger from the library is here.

My heart does a weird jolt in my chest. I don’t know why.

The stranger is sitting at a table in the back. He has a book in his hand.

My eyes travel down to the book he’s holding. It’s the one he checked out earlier.

I know that because I was seated at the computer near the checkout desk, looking up when a book was expected in. I surreptitiously watched while my manager, Margaret, checked his book out. They made small talk. I wasn’t close enough to hear.

It was the nearest I had been to him so far.

And, yes, it is weird that I’m cataloguing these facts.

I’m starting to think I have truly lost my mind.

Or that I left it back in Chicago before I moved here.

The stranger looks up from the book in his hand, and I quickly avert my eyes, acting as though I didn’t see him.

Not that he knows who I am.

You know, because I’m the weird library lurker.

My nerves are all over the place. I’m not sure why because it’s not like he knows me. Or that I have seen him at the library.

I’m relieved though when my drink is ready and I can leave.

I pick up my drink, but before I make for the exit, I give one quick look in the stranger’s direction.

He’s staring right at me. My eyes meet with his.

My stomach flips over.

His lips tip up into a friendly smile.

I quickly look away, turn, and walk out of the coffee shop.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why am I so affected by this guy’s presence? I don’t even know him!

It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.

The only thing I can come up with is because he’s hot and I am physically attracted to him.

It has been a long time since I have felt any form of attraction to any man, so that’s why my hormones are overreacting.

That is all it can be.

It’s quiet outside when I let myself in my building.

I walk up the stairs to the second floor, where my apartment is.

As I turn down the hall, I see a cat sitting in the hallway.

A bad memory crawls over my skin. But I force it away.

The cat watches me approach.