A Deadly Affair

Six

I wake up feeling very warm, which is nice considering the apartment is frigid. I snuggle deeper into the pillows, relishing In the heat, until I realize that Ryan's pillows aren't hard. Opening one eye, I almost squeal in surprise when I see Ryan's bare chest inches from my face. I tilt up my head to find a sleeping Ryan, who I am curled into, and whose arm is wrapped around me as if I'm a pillow; which feels nice- no. We are roommates. He just happens to be inhumanly handsome, and charming, and amusing- STOP. I need space from his chiseled chest, and impeccable jawline, and- I wiggle out of his hold, careful to not wake him, then slide off the bed and fall onto the hardwood floor. I jump up quickly, rubbing my aching side where I fell: but stop when I notice Ryan frowning, then pulling my pillow closer. My breath catches, as I watch him sleep peacefully and wonder how we got through all the pillows. He's on top of them; does that mean he reached for me first? And did one of us move pillows in our sleep? I didn't wake up at all last night, so I have no idea how this happened: yet, I can't seem to find it in myself to be upset by it. Rubbing my cold arms, I rush out of his room and into mine. I can't catch feelings for Ryan. I have too much baggage at the moment with a crazy, ex boyfriend stalker, and school and work. Besides, Ryan has to be hiding something; nobody puts a fake name just for the fun of it. Maybe he's running from someone, or something too. Maybe we're a match made in stalker Hell, or maybe we were meant to be allies, only friends. Sighing softly, I throw on my leggings and some socks because why is our apartment freezing right now?

"Good morning, Julie." Ryan asks as he passes my room toward the kitchen, stopping to lean against the doorframe. "I'm going for a run, want to come?"

I shake my head, not trusting my voice with how good he looks in athletic wear. His long sleeve tee clings to him, testing those firm muscles I was very close to just a few minutes ago. He grins, somehow amused before he makes his exit. "I should be back in thirty minutes." He calls, then the front door shuts and I heave a heavy sigh. I need a giant, neon sign telling me that I can't have feelings for Ryan because I'm finding it hard not to.

The cold, early January air hits me like a truck, as I bundle deeper into my winter coat while making the walk to my car. Clinicals are supposed to be over by five: but they ran later than normal, so it's almost six-thirty when I finally get to leave. The hospital has a few coveted, reserved spots for us nursing students: but if you get there too late, you have to park in the visitor parking which means I had to park two football fields away from the hospital entrance. Every part of me is shivering when I finally see my car as if it's the light at the end of the tunnel. I throw my bag into the back seat, and am opening the driver door when something stops me. Not something, someone. I whirl around to find Miles holding my door handle open.

"Miles," I exclaim in shock, as something fills my stomach.

"Hi Jules. How was your day?" He asks this quietly, and I reach for the mace I keep in my pocket. Fear- it's the feeling in my stomach. For the first time, I'm actually afraid of Miles. He has a different look in his eyes, and his jaw is set tight. We're standing in the middle of an almost deserted parking lot, late at night, where no one could hear me.

"Fine," I reply quietly, clinging to the mace in my pocket. I don't want to have to use it: but judging by the feeling in my gut I think I might have to. I feel utterly alone, like a gazelle cornered by a lion. Swallowing, I slowly start to take out my mace.

"I thought we could talk." Miles informs me, his voice leaving no room for argument. I fight to keep calm, not wanting to show him how nervous he's making me right now. Miles feeds off of fear, and I'm not about to give him what he wants.

"Oh, someone's actually waiting for me." I lie; though, I'm sure Ryan will wonder where I am considering I'm already late by an hour. Maybe he's been trying to reach me? I should have checked my phone: but it's in my book bag which is laying in the back seat of my car. Stupid move, Jules.
Miles doesn't appear to be listening. I notice he's looking at something across the lot; which inclines me to follow his sight to find the blinking light of a security camera. I take his momentary distraction to kick him between the legs; and while he's hobbling and cursing at me, I hop in my car and lock it. He knocks on my window, as I fumble to start the car, almost dropping my keys into the floorboard but recovering quickly; all I can register is that he's shouting, but my blood is rushing to my ears so I can't make out the words and all I can think is that I need to get out of here. I finally get my car in gear, and speed away, leaving a fuming Miles in the middle of the lot.