sound. The world around me fades before coming back at full speed.

Breathe.

“Damn, I can barely keep up with you now,” Stephan huffs, coming to a stop beside me. I’ve been running since I was eleven, trying to outrun the past. I craved the solitude of it. “Shit, you look pale. Here, have some of my water.” He frowns.

Taking what he offers, I gulp down the water. The cold liquid pours into my empty stomach, causing pain.

“Want to get something to eat?” I ask, not remembering the last time I consumed anything substantial.

“Sure. You want to change first?” We’re both in running gear, dripping in sweat.

“Meet at Marley’s in thirty?” I offer.

Forty minutes later, I’m sitting across from Stephan in one of the booths staring at a short menu I know back to back without having to look at it.

“You sure you don’t want to go somewhere else? There isn’t really food here.” He scrunches his nose, looking at what’s on offer.

“I like it here,” I lie. I just hate anything unfamiliar and I’ve been anxious since hearing about Abigail, sensing eyes on me when there are none. Shadows creep from the corners of every space, keeping me on edge. There’s a constant feeling of someone standing too close, a breath on the back of my neck.

“What happened?” Stephan grasps my hand, stroking his thumb over my crescent moon. I hadn’t noticed I’d been scratching at the scars again. My skin burns from his touch. I gently pull back, not wanting to offend him.

“Nothing.” I pull the sleeve of my sweater down to cover them. “I think I’m just going to have a pastry. What about you?”

His gaze is penetrating, eyes burning into my own, burrowing beneath the lies I tell him, trying to smash through my façade to get at the broken pieces underneath. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” His tone is as sharp as a knife cutting through the space between us.

“Should we get something to go? I forgot I haven’t done any studying for class.” He knows I’m just making excuses to bail.

A couple silent beats pass, then he’s scooting out of the booth. “Sure. I’ll come back to your place and study with you.” Fail.

We order coffee and cakes to go. When I tell Charlotte we’re heading to the apartment to study, she makes a crude gesture, shoving her finger through a doughnut. “Cut it out. What are you, nine?” I snap, flames burning my cheeks.

Opening the door for me, I step around Stephan and nearly spill my coffee on a guy entering. His scent hits me with a shift of the wind, making my heart skip. Petrichor. I inhale the sweet, earthy tone from the first rain of summer. “I’m sorry,” I croak, tracing up the tall planes of his body, my gaze clashing with intense vivid green eyes. A wave of adrenaline races through my blood, making my pulse jump wildly in my neck. We’re frozen in a moment.

“Liz?” Stephan clears his throat. Green Eyes moves past me without a word, disappearing inside. I feel the cold more than I should when I step onto the street. I try to catch another glimpse of him through the window, but only see Charlotte serving someone else. Turning my head to look toward the back of the shop, I jolt, bumping into Stephan. The man is standing in the middle of the shop staring out at me. I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful in my entire life. Scruff covers half his face—and it works for him. Thick lashes complement his compellingly vivid eyes. High cheekbones covered in olive skin.

“You’re acting weirder than usual.” Stephan nudges me, a light tone to his voice as we walk back to my apartment. I inhale a deep breath, feeling a little winded.

“Is that possible?” I jest, finally having to pull my gaze from the shop as we pass by it. “I’m usually pretty weird,” I admit. I feel lighter when he chuckles, nodding his head in agreement.

Grabbing some plates, I dish out the desserts and carry them over to the couch. Stephan stares out the window to the building opposite. There’s only maybe six feet from our window to the woman’s across the divide.

“Why don’t you have curtains? You know she can see in here, right?”

I look where he’s staring at the woman in question wearing only a bathrobe while she tidies her apartment. “Charlotte likes to be on display.” I shrug.

“So does she if the length of her robe is anything to go by.” A smile tilts my lips. I’ve seen her in less. She kinda feels like another roommate. “And you?” he asks, coming to the couch and taking a seat.

“Me what?”

He turns to face me, dissecting. “Do you like being on display?” The room shrinks around us. Is he flirting? Twisting the dynamics of our friendship? No.

We’d been friends since he transferred into my cognitive psych class eight months ago, and he never gave the impression he saw me as anything other than a friend.

“You know me better than that.” I raise a brow, taking a bite of a brownie.

His mouth breaks into a broad smile as he chuckles to himself. He does that a lot. There’s always more going on in his eyes, however. “Your face just then was a real picture.”

I throw a pillow in his direction and offer a scathing glare, making him laugh harder. “You want to study?” he asks.

Reaching for the remote, I shrug. “We could watch a movie instead.”

Cold drops of water trickle over my face, waking me abruptly.

My eyes open to see Charlotte standing over me, a bottle of water in hand. I’m still on the couch. I sit up, my head a little groggy, my eyes going to where Stephan was sitting before I fell asleep. “He left,” Charlotte informs me.

“What time is it?” The TV is still on, but there’s no sound. Water droplets run down my face. Wiping them away, I

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