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Stealing Harper(87)

By:Molly McAdams


When I finished a couple hours later, I put everything in my purse and called out goodbyes to the too-awake baristas. As soon as I pushed open the door and walked out into the muggy night air, my phone went off and the words on the screen caused me to stumble and a chill to shoot through my body.

Blake: You look beautiful tonight.

Instead of bolting for my car like any sane person, I looked around until I found him. Well, running to my car wouldn’t have helped much; he was parked right next to it and leaning against the driver door of his shiny little Lexus.

How did he know I was here? If he didn’t know I was here, what is he doing here at two in the morning? Oh my word, he’s been following me! No, that’s ridiculous; come on Rachel get a grip. He is not following you, frick I really need to stop thinking the world and everyone in it revolves around me. He just happened to be here and saw your car. That’s all. Right? Right.

I took a few steps closer to the cars and took a deep breath as I dropped my phone back into my purse, trying to calm myself down. “Hi, Blake.”

“I was starting to think you would never leave, I’ve been out here for hours.”

Oh God, he had been waiting for me! Those words were creepy enough, but paired with the sexy, innocent smile they seemed even worse. I meant for my voice to sound strong and annoyed but it was barely a whisper, “Why are you following me?”

“Following you? I’m not following you. Candice told me you were waiting for me to pick you up from the study group. Jesus, Rachel, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost; are you all right?”

“Candice said what? No, I was definitely not waiting for you; I drove myself here. That should be obvious, since you’re parked next to my Jeep.” I didn’t know what was going on, but I wanted to get out of there and away from him. Now.

“Yeah, but your car isn’t starting. Which is why I’m here.” He said every word slowly like I was a child or something. “Don’t you remember Rachel? You called her almost three hours ago, but she was busy so you told her to call me. Are you feeling okay? Come on, get in the car I’ll get you back to your room.”

“I am not getting in your car, I’ll drive myself back!” With that I took the last few steps to my car, got in, locked the door and put the key in the ignition. I turned it but nothing happened. There wasn’t even a click. What happened to my car? I knew I hadn’t called Candice. And even then, if I’d wanted Blake to pick me up I would have called him myself. Someone tapped on the window and even though I knew who it was, I still jumped.

“Come on, Rach, this is dumb. Just get in the car I’ll take you back. I’ll get your car towed in a couple hours.”

There was no point in trying to call someone else. It was two in the morning, everyone was asleep, and I definitely couldn’t walk back at this hour. I let out a big sigh and opened the door.

“That’s my girl, come on let’s go.” He helped me into his car then got in beside me, this time he didn’t put his hand on my thigh.

The short drive to the dorm seemed to take forever, and besides asking me a few times if I was feeling all right; there was no conversation. Blake seemed genuinely concerned about me. Had I called Candice? Did I just forget about everything while I was writing to my parents? Is that why I went in to write to them in the first place? Maybe all the studying mixed with my caffeine high that was turning into a major crash had my mind all jumbled. I must have just forgotten. It would have been easy to grab my phone and check the recent call history, but something inside me tightened and I knew it would be the wrong thing to do. We finally reached the dorm, and just like this morning, Blake parked in the lot. Aces.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” He asked for the fifth time since we got in the car, “You freaked when you saw me.”

“I’m fine, really, don’t worry about me. I probably just forgot and lost track of time in there.” I tried to make my smile convincing, I didn’t want him to walk me to my room. I got out of the car, ducked my head back in to thank him and saw he was getting out too. Crap. Well, at least this would give me time to tell him I needed some space.

“You don’t really think I’m going let you walk up there by yourself, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered, “I was just trying to be polite. It’s late and you’ve already been waiting on me for hours . . . apparently.”

He just laughed as he walked toward me, put his arm around my waist and led me to my room. When we got there he reached out to open the door for me; at least the good bye would be short. But my happiness was short lived; he walked me into the empty room and then turned to shut and lock the door behind us.