My sneakers pounded the pavement until I reached the park at the center of campus. The path that led to the quad was lined with streetlamps and trees, so leafy shadows dotted the concrete. Campus was mostly deserted this late on a Friday, but one entwined couple and one solitary guy sat on benches about fifty feet from each other. The couple didn’t bother looking up from their make-out session as I jogged by. Typical. But as I approached the guy, he pinned me with a curious stare. My eyes locked onto his, and something inside me sparked—my stomach stung like it had been shocked. Oh God, what now?
I slowed my run and examined the guy more closely. His face was shadowed beneath the streetlamp, but his eyes were such a clear blue, they seemed to sparkle in the light. I gave a slight nod as I ran past him, then continued my normal loop along the quad, around the library, and through the parking lot. By the time I got back to the park, the couple was gone, but the guy on the bench was still there. His muscular form sat beneath the streetlight—it really was a lovely view. He quickly pushed himself to his feet as I approached, moving so he stood directly in the center of my path. If I kept on my current trajectory, I’d run straight into him. Was that what he wanted?
I slowed my jog and moved toward the side of the trail, and he sidestepped so he was in front of me again. He was definitely trying to get my attention. Kind of a creepy way to do it, but if he wanted to talk, I was open. The electricity pinging inside my gut, combined with the familiarity in the guy’s gaze, piqued my curiosity. Jeez, Allie. Need a date much? My brain battled my heart as I struggled with whether to turn tail and run or find out what the guy wanted. On the one hand, he had an energy that resonated familiarity—it felt like I’d met him somewhere before. But on the other hand, we were totally alone—if this guy was going to attack, there wouldn’t be anyone around to help me. And since he continued to stand there, not saying a word, it didn’t look like he was planning to ask me out.
Crappers.
I skidded to a stop and slipped my hand into my hoodie, wrapping my fingers around my pepper spray. I was so ready to pull the trigger if that guy came at me. I had no intention of being attacked. But the guy didn’t step any closer, nor did he change his position as I walked purposefully toward the far side of the trail. As I got closer to him, he took one step forward so the streetlamp hit the planes of his body. Holy hell. My eyes roamed over the impossibly tall, unbelievably gorgeous specimen, who put my earlier vision of Thor to shame. The guy must have been six-and-a-half feet in height, with tightly corded muscles that pulled on his long-sleeved, grey thermal. He wore his striped beanie pulled low over his ears, with long, shaggy, blonde hair spilling out of it. When he didn’t come any closer, I relaxed my hand on the pepper spray.
I cautiously walked around him, preparing to break back into my run. He just stared at me, an unreadable expression covering his perfect features. Icy-blue eyes rested behind thick, dark lashes, and his square jaw tensed as he ran his gaze down my face to my neck, finally freezing on my new necklace. Recognition flickered in his eyes for a split second before a hardness coated his features. A sense of intensity radiated from his furrowed brow, and my mood shifted from appreciative to defensive as the stranger—the totally gorgeous, insanely massive stranger—moved toward me with his arms outstretched. Did he think he was going to tackle me? Screw his familiar-looking eyes. This guy was going down if he tried to touch me. The guy continued toward me without saying a word, and I shifted onto the balls of my feet. Move it, Allie.
“You,” the guy said.
“Yup. Me.” I backed up, aiming to put some distance between me and the world’s hottest park attacker. I raised my palm, hoping he’d read my stay back vibes, but instead of walking away he grabbed my arm. Hard.
“You have to come with me. You’re not safe.” The maniac pinned me with those crystalline blue eyes.
No kidding, I’m not safe. The guy’s grip was cutting off the circulation to my hand. No way was I overpowering him, unless I could exploit some weakness in his energy signature. I grounded myself and reached out to brush my energy against his, only to realize this guy had no signature. None. That was impossible. I’d never met a person I couldn’t energetically see. Who the hell was this guy?
The maniac’s grip on my arm tightened, and I panicked. In one quick move, I pulled out the pepper spray and pushed the button. It only took a second before the burning mist covered his face, and I took the opportunity to rip my other arm out of his grasp. He groaned and folded over, clawing at his eyes.
Without another look, I turned and booked it, running faster than I ever had before. My feet pounded the ground, and I made my way back to my building in record time. My heart hammered in my chest as I used my keycard to enter the safety of the dorm. Inside, I crossed straight to the panic phone hanging on the wall to report Hottie McCrazypants to security. By the time I finished giving my statement and made it up to my room, I was ready for a long, hot shower. And when Mallory finally got home, she found me curled on the couch, a pint of ice cream in one hand and my can of pepper spray in the other.
Screw this day. I could start fresh tomorrow.
****
The weekend passed much too quickly. After I told Mallory about the hot maniac, she got spooked and decided to stay in the rest of the weekend. Saturday was devoted to a roommate-movie marathon, and on Sunday, we watched the first big snowfall of the year from the comfort of our dorm. It dumped for most of the day, and I knew by the afternoon, our local hill would have a solid base cover. My skis called to me from my closet, but my Literature paper called even harder. Instead of flying down a mountain, I sat dutifully typing on my laptop while the world outside my window was dusted in white.
On Monday, I sat in my Classical Mythology class, waiting for Professor Millan to arrive. The weekend with Mallory had taken my mind off of things, but I’d had to wear gloves to finish the reading and avoid any unwanted visions. And I’d left the text at home on purpose. After my movie-memory experience, I was officially terrified of that book. Because, reasons. I had, however, gotten into a groove with my necklace. My headache hadn’t come back, and now I resonated a warm energy that filled me with vitality. Whether it was the necklace or Mallory’s seaweed-coconut water, I felt healthier than I had in months . . . or ever. Things were definitely looking up. And with only two days before Thanksgiving break, I was ready for some rest and relaxation.
There was a commotion at the front of the class, and I looked up to see Professor Millan walk to the podium, a broad-shouldered man by her side. Long blond hair fell in front of his face, but when he tucked it behind his ear, I nearly jumped out of my chair. It was him—the guy who’d attacked me. He wasn’t wearing a beanie now, and his hair was neatly combed, but there was no forgetting those eyes or that jaw line. I scanned him again and sure enough, no energy signature. Not possible.