Midnight Secrets

As expected, Sel was awake before Addie or I got up since she had an eight AM class. The crazy bitch was a morning person, something I was far from, made worse by how terribly I slept last night.

For some fucking reason, I dreamt of the guy from class, even though I hadn’t thought about him yesterday. The nightmares ranged from strange to downright terrifying. In one dream, he chased me down the dark hallways of my old high school at night, and like all bad dreams, it was like I was running in slow motion.

One thing that remained constant in every nightmare, I always ended up bleeding, and not just a little; it ended up everywhere. I awoke several times with my heart racing, my breaths coming out in hard and fast pants, and sweat soaking my body.

The first day of class introductions were over, and today we began getting into the lessons. I only fell asleep twice, and my friend in class woke me up before the professor noticed. I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, but today was definitely a coffee day, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to function.

I found myself growing anxious and a little antsy as the day wore on. Because of my nightmares for the past two nights, I was a little nervous at the thought of seeing the guy who killed me multiple times in my dreams. Which was stupid since the only thing the guy did wrong was be rude and creep me out, but that knowledge didn’t stop my nerves.

My body was wound tight as I walked to class, and it didn’t help matters that the sun had already set. My palms were sweating like crazy, and I kept having to wipe them off on my pants as I continued putting one foot in front of the other. It was a chilly Maine night, despite it still being summer, and I was glad I thought to bring a jacket.

The only thing that made me feel slightly better was the fact I wasn’t alone on the sidewalks. A group of friends passed me, laughing and joking around since they were done with classes for the day and were probably planning on going to a party later tonight. I’d been invited to three different ones today, and no doubt Sel and Addie were invited to others.

This time, I had minutes to spare, taking a seat in the middle of the classroom, a few seats away from the middle aisle. I kept my focus on my book, notebook, and pen as I removed them. Was it a chicken-shit move? Yup. Did I care? Hell no. My initial instinct when I met that man was to run away, and I always trusted my instincts, as my dad taught me.

Out of nowhere, the now familiar tingle ran down my spine, starting at the nape of my neck. It came on so suddenly and stronger than the other times that I nearly jumped out of my seat. The urge to spin around and discover the source was strong, but I ignored it and continued looking forward, refusing to give in. With how intense the feeling was, someone had to be staring at me with laser-focused intensity. If someone was actually staring at me.

If I looked around, I’d either find nobody watching me—as what happened the past two days—or I’d find someone staring at me. I didn’t know which option was worse: being a crazy, paranoid bitch or having some creep watching me.

It was hard to focus on the lesson with that horrible, cloying feeling that wouldn’t let up. At one point, I let my hair down from its messy bun to try and use it as a flimsy barrier. I subtly peeked through the strands, but my range of vision wasn’t great. Either I gave in and turned around, or I’d have to get used to not knowing. I wasn’t a fan of either option.

Halfway through class, the weight of the heavy stare won out, and I turned my head so I could see the back of the class. While I didn’t find anyone staring at me, I did find something that had me jerking and immediately facing the front of the lecture hall. My heart rate spiked, and my entire body tensed.

Sitting in the back corner, with no one sitting near him, was the man who starred in my nightmares.

Of course, he was the type to sit in the back all alone.

I spent the next couple of minutes trying and failing to pay attention to the professor, but it was no use. Finally giving in, I subtly—well, as subtle as I could—peeked at him again. He was carelessly sprawled back in his chair, staring at the front of the class, looking bored out of his mind. The guy didn’t bother taking notes, not that my note-taking was much better today. At least I was trying. He didn’t even have a notebook on his desk.

His long fingers drummed on the desk, and out of nowhere, my mind conjured an image of them trailing over my body. The image was brief, there one moment and gone the next, but it left me reeling and jerking so I was facing the front again.

Why the fuck would I think of that?

Granted, he was handsome in the classic movie star kind of way that no normal person could ever obtain, but this didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t the type to have a random fantasy pop in and out of my head, especially not like this.

He may have been attractive, but I wasn’t attracted to him. When he made my heart race, it wasn’t from excitement or desire. I didn’t have the urge to get closer or want to talk to him. The only reason I stared at him was out of confusion as to why he creeped me out so much and gave me nightmares. If it weren’t for my dreams and my strange reaction to him, I probably would’ve eventually written off our brief encounter and just thought of him as a rude asshole.

Shaking off that out-of-place thought, I picked up my pen and forced myself to listen to the lecture. I had little doubt that when I went back to look at my notes later on, they’d be a confusing and jumbled mess.

This was the longest fucking hour I’d ever experienced. It felt like the class was two hours rather than only fifty minutes. When the professor at long last concluded class, I couldn’t get out of my seat fast enough, feeling the urge to run out of here as fast as I could. I didn’t even stop to put my notebook or pen in my bag and just carried them instead. Stopping to put them away was time I couldn’t spare.

I couldn’t say why I felt the urge to practically run out of the room like it was on fire, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. I had to put as much distance between myself and that room as humanly possible.

My pace was quick as I followed the sidewalk. The night air was filled with the low voices of my classmates as they filed out of the building, some following the same path as me. Having others around me was a relief with how my instincts were going haywire.

Unlike the other night, I wasn’t aware of my surroundings, too busy trying to slow my thundering pulse. Because of that, I didn’t hear someone approaching me until they were right behind me.

“You left your book on the desk.”

The cultured voice was so sudden and unexpected that I jumped and let out a squeak. I was baffled when I turned around and found the mystery man standing only a couple of feet away, my textbook in his outstretched hand.

On instinct, I took a step back from him, putting some distance between us as my gaze numbly dropped to my hands. Sure enough, I only held my notebook and pen. How the fuck did I forget my book? The damn thing had been on my desk right next to my notebook. It didn’t make any sense. Even in my rush to get out of there, I should’ve noticed the heavy-ass book sitting in the middle of my fucking desk.

“Thank you,” I muttered, feeling embarrassed when my hand shook as I took the textbook from him.

My gaze flicked up to his face, not finding any anger or annoyance shadowing his expression, only open curiosity. “You left the room awfully fast,” he noted, not asking if I was alright like most would.

“Yeah, um”—I took a step to the side, standing on the grass to allow others to walk down the sidewalk, all the while, he remained in the same place—“I wanted to beat the rush. I have plans with my roommates.”

The lie flowed so easily from my tongue and without thought. He continued wordlessly staring at me like he didn’t believe me for a single second. A shudder attempted to work its way through my body as a corner of his lips hitched up.

I bet his lips are soft.

The thought was so random and out of place that I jerked back another step. What the fuck?

“So anyways, thanks for grabbing my book. I’ll see you in class,” I muttered in a rush, stepping away from him.

His smirk grew, but rather than intrigue or annoy me, all I felt was dread.

He took a step closer to me, and I matched his step with a retreating one as the breeze rustled the grass and my jacket and made it so his intoxicating cologne was all I could smell. Seriously, where did he get this stuff? It was the most delicious thing I’d ever smelled and had me wanting to bury my nose in his shirt.

My moment of distraction allowed him to capture my right hand and pull it away from my book. His hands had a chill to them, causing another shudder to run through me as my hand tingled ever so slightly, but he didn’t stop there, dipping his head and pressing a light kiss on the top of my hand. Another shudder racked my body at how cold his lips were and the fact a man I didn’t know thought it was okay to kiss my hand at all.

Such soft lips.

All I could do was stand there in complete silence as he did this. It was like my body had shut down from the confusion and warring sensations battling in my mind and body. The part of me that wanted to run and get the fuck away from this guy was still very much there. But now there was this need to get closer, to take in more of his mouth-watering scent. Not to mention, the thoughts that had me nearly leaping out of my skin with how sudden and random they were.

I couldn’t understand where they even came from. Obviously, they came from me since where else would they come from? But it didn’t make a lick of sense; none of this did. It was all too weird and too much for me. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with this right now.

“My name is Ezra, in case you were curious,” he said with another smirk as if he thought he had me eating out of the palm of his hand or wrapped around his finger. Big spoiler alert: he didn’t.

Not once in the past couple of days did I wonder what his name was—the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. If I really wanted to know his name, I could’ve looked at where he signed my paper the other day, but I hadn’t. I didn’t tell him any of these things as I watched him back away and head back the way he came from.