Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Dad’s on his way,” Gemma says as she pockets her phone. “He’s calling the dean, too. They’re all going to meet us at the campus police office.” She takes the letter from me and quickly reads it. “This guy needs to get a life.”
I sling an arm over her shoulders and pull her into my side as we walk. This stalker guy is slick—too slick. It makes me nervous as fuck for her.
Soon, we’re entering the campus police office and reporting our findings. The older gentleman with a thick gray mustache jovially flirts with Gemma as he fills out a report, totally not reading the room.
She’s scared, dude.
Leave her the fuck alone.
Carl Vaughn.
The hairs on my arms stand on end. What if this leering old man is the creep who’s been terrorizing her?
Damn, I’m getting as paranoid as she is.
Not long after, Nathan and the dean come striding in together, nearly matching in navy three-piece suits. Nathan’s tie is a paler blue, whereas the dean’s is red. Both men wear stern expressions.
“Miss Park,” the PMU head dean, Dr. Skeller, greets. “Your dad’s filled me in on what’s going on. Are you okay?”
Gemma glances over at Carl and barely suppresses a shudder. The small shiver can be seen if you’re really watching. Apparently, both me and her dad are because Nathan pulls her to his chest.
Gemma clings to him, letting him hug her tight. I want to do the same.
“I’m fine,” she finally manages to answer. “I’m just tired of this.”
“Mr. Vaughn,” Dr. Skeller instructs in a firm tone, “please check any security footage we may have on the parking lot mentioned in her report. If there’s anything unusual, report back. We’re going to catch this guy. If he’s doing this to Miss Park, he could be doing it to other students.”
Carl, no longer eyeballing my girlfriend’s tits, nods emphatically. “I’m on it, sir.”
“I didn’t think about this happening to other students,” Gemma says with a grimace.
“We’re going to get him,” Nathan assures her. “I promise.”
I hope it’s one promise he can deliver on.
Rather than our usual office visit, I’m meeting Tate at Park’s Peak, a trendy coffee shop in town with a magnificent view of the mountain. The report with the campus police plus the subsequent talk after with Nathan and Dr. Skeller had me missing my appointment time completely. Luckily, Tate was understanding and wants to meet up now that my classes are done for the day.
I pull into a spot next to his Jeep and climb out. He’s inside, sitting by the window, and waves. When I make my way inside, I’m happy to see he’s ordered for us. In my empty spot, a coffee and a pastry await me.
“Hey, man,” I say as I take my seat. “Thanks.”
Tate smiles and then sips his coffee, eyes boring into me. “Do you know how hard it is for me to keep it together right now?”
A snort rips out of me. “I can only imagine.”
“Seriously,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. “What are the odds that Golden was my future sister-in-law?” His features tighten. “I do want you to understand that what we talk about remains confidential. I’d never betray that and speak to her about you.”
Even though I hoped that was the case, it relieves me hearing it from my new friend. Gemma knows my deep, dark secret—hell, she’s the deep, dark secret—but I still don’t like the idea of someone else telling her all there is to know about me.
“Yeah?”
Tate nods several times like a bobblehead sitting on the dash of a cruising car. “Absolutely. And now that we’ve cleared that up, can we please discuss everything?”
Everything.
For so long I’ve kept everything under lock and key. Now that it’s out in the wide open to virtually everyone—especially those closest to me—it doesn’t feel so nightmarish.
“Well, it all started when I was nine.” I glance around to make sure no kids are around. “I was on a hunt to prove to my best friend Dax that Santa was real.”
Tate smirks. “He totally is. I’ve seen him at the mall before.”
I chuckle and realize I’m not dreading this as much as I thought I would. It makes me wonder if I could tell the whole story to Dax next. He certainly could use an explanation for why I can be melancholic at times.
For the next hour, I unload all of my past and all of my present onto Tate. To his credit, he listens intently, doesn’t interrupt, and encourages me to keep going. Once I start talking, I can’t seem to stop. We end up going for another round of coffee and pastries just so the people won’t kick us out for staying so long.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Tate says when I finally finish. “How are you feeling now that your dads know?”