I bummed around for a while and tried to get a feel for the town before I decided what to do next.

I didn’t have a plan. Not a real one, anyway. The cold helped, sort of. It kept my thoughts from circling back to David’s voice in my head or the alley shadows promising something I never knew I wanted until now. 

A bus went by half-empty, rattling away like it might fall apart. I watched it pause at the empty bus stop on the corner, then start up again and disappear down the road. It made me wonder, briefly, if I could hitch a ride somewhere if I chased it down, jumped in, and let it take me somewhere else before any of this had the chance to stick. Maybe California.

I’d heard they liked queer people down there. Had parades and everything. Sunshine, beaches, and people who didn’t look at you like you were going to steal their purse and run.

Bet they didn’t have all this rain.

Or freaky tentacle monsters that set your car on fire.

But I didn’t move.

The sound of the bus faded, swallowed up by the wet hush of the street, and just like that, the moment passed. Whatever out I’d imagined was gone before I’d even really decided if I wanted it.

Figures. 

I let out a slow breath and dragged a hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face. Everything felt off. Not dangerous, but misaligned, like I’d stepped half a foot out of sync with reality and couldn’t quite step back in now that I knew what was out there. Which was crazy, because this old town didn’t look like it held much. There was a fuck-ton of nothing, for one. Empty storefronts with sun-faded signs. Windows that hadn’t been cleaned in years.

A car rolled past, tires hissing against the wet pavement, and I just so happened to glance across the street when it finally passed by. 

And low and fucking behold, there he was. King of the Nerds. Noah Riley standing in a used bookstore, holding a worn paperback in one hand like a completely normal, well-adjusted human being. Like he did this every weekend just for the hell of it, and maybe even enjoyed it, which was a sickening thought. 

He was leaning just slightly into the shelf, one shoulder angled, thumb tucked between pages to hold his spot. Sleeves of his faded plaid pushed up just enough to show off his forearms, clean, nothing flashy. 

His hair still looked like it got messed up on purpose, falling just enough into his face to make it look unbothered. It wasn’t. No way. Nobody rolled out of bed looking that goddamn good. 

The nerve of this guy.

While I stood outside, soaked through like a drowned rat, he stood there under warm light in a bookstore, looking like some kind of flippin’ catalog model selling underwear. Probably smelled like laundry detergent and bubble gum, too. 

I knew I could have kept walking, left him alone to his dumb books, and made at least one good decision today. But I figured if he was gonna pretend to be normal…

I was gonna ruin it.

I stepped onto the pavement, fingers hooked in my belt loops, and strode across, keeping my pace slow and deliberate, like I had all the time in the world. My reflection slid across the glass as I passed, smearing over shelves of books and soft lighting and whatever safe little world he’d built around himself. 

It didn’t take very long for him to notice me. At first, he kind of glanced up, probably saw me out of the corner of his eye. Then his head snapped up and we made eye contact through the window. 

Noah froze, book still in his hand, thumb still marking his place in his book. For a second, neither of us moved, rain pattering on the glass between us. Me outside, soaked and very much committed to being a problem. Him inside, dry and looking like he was already calculating how to disappear. His expression shifted, a prissy, tight little, “don’t you fucking dare” look, like he’d already decided I was about to ruin his entire afternoon, and he was absolutely right.

I lifted a hand, gave him a lazy little wave, two fingers, barely any effort, like we were friends who ran into each other all the time and not…whatever the hell this was. Then I pointed at him and his book. And raised my brows like, “Really?”

His expression flattened out fast, jaw tightening. Then, very clearly, he mouthed something at me. Couldn’t hear a damn word of what he said, but I didn’t need to. It definitely wasn’t friendly.

I leaned a little closer to the glass, hands still in my pockets, rain dripping off my hair. “What?” I mouthed back, overly casual. 

Noah exhaled through his nose like I’d personally tested his patience for sport. Then he pointed toward the street. Then at me. Then made a very clear shoo motion with his hand, like he was dusting crumbs off a table or something. Ah. There it was. 

I laughed and shook my head, dragging my tongue along my teeth before answering him with a slow, exaggerated, “No.

Noah rolled his eyes, snapped his book closed, and started moving away from the window. As soon as he disappeared behind a shelf, I headed over to the door and went inside. 

The bell above the door gave a soft jingle as I stepped inside. Warm air wrapped around me immediately, dry, papery, and slightly dusty in the way old bookstores always were. 

I strode forward casually, floorboards creaking under my boots, hands still in my pockets. A couple of people in the store glanced up as I passed, then immediately decided not to get involved. One guy shifted slightly to the side like he was making room for whatever disaster I was bringing with me into this place. 

I turned down an aisle, the bookstore narrowing as I went deeper, light thinning out into that soft, honeyed glow that made everything feel like a weird little dream I’d just stepped into. Then I turned the corner, and there he was. Noah Riley, book still in hand, shoulder angled slightly toward the shelf like he was purposely ignoring me, hoping, like a bad rash, that I’d go away.

I stopped a few feet away from him and pretended to study the shelf of old paperbacks in front of me. “Wow,” I said, deadpan, and slid one out. “So You’ve Ruined Your Life: A Beginner’s Guide."

“Yeah,” Noah glared over at me. “You should probably buy that one before it’s too late.”

I snorted, flipping the book over in my hands like I was seriously considering it. “Tempting,” I said. “But I’m more into porn.”

Noah closed his book again, firmer this time, and turned toward me fully. “Are you done?” he asked. 

I tilted my head back and laughed. “I talked to David,” I said, and tapped the spine of the book lightly against my palm. “Funny, he told me the same thing you told me about him. Stay away from Noah Riley. Then he invited me into his little cult.”

Oh, that got his attention. His expression tightened, but something slipped through before he could lock it down again. "What did you just say?” he asked.

I shrugged and slid the book back into place, then pulled another one. “Cult. Leather jackets, cryptic warnings. Sucking each other's dicks under the light of the full moon. Whole vibe’s a little too Looney Tunes for me if I’m being honest.”

Noah stepped forward, getting almost in my face. “Did you go with them to Hudson’s Bluff?” he demanded. 

“Relax, Hot Shot,” I scoffed. “No. Thought I’d come check out the competition first before I picked a side. David wants me to stay away from you. You want me to stay away from David. And nobody’s giving me the right answers around here. I’m out of a car, and I’m stranded in this bum-fuck town in the middle of nowhere—”

That’s as far as I got before he grabbed me by the front of my shirt and hauled my ass back down the aisle. “Asshole—!” I started.

“Shut up,” he hissed, eyes darting around. “Someone could be listening.”

Before I could even process it, he pulled me between the shelves, books blurring past in warm light and dusty spines until we hit a narrower section tucked deeper in the back. A dead end of books and shadow. Then he finally let go and turned on me.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice lowering. “You don’t get to treat this like some kind of stupid turf war.”

I scowled at him. “Then what is it?”

“I don’t know." Noah shook his head and gathered his books under one arm, adjusting them as if they might anchor him to reality if he held on tight enough. "And look, no offense, but I’m really not comfortable talking about this in the middle of a used bookstore. And I have class in the morning, man.”

“So, that’s it? Class is more important than some fucking nightmare trying to eat the whole town?” I followed him down the aisle when he pushed past me. “Riley,” I said, “I saw it. Twice. And it was the most horrifying…most goddamn beautiful thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

Noah stopped so suddenly the books under his arm shifted, a couple of spines bumping together with a soft, papery thud. “Jesus,” he whispered under his breath. “Beautiful,” he laughed, eyes squeezed shut. “That’s what you think of that thing?”

“Guess so,” I replied, and I reached into my pocket for my cigarettes, paused for a moment, then grabbed the pack of bubblegum I had in there instead. “Look,” I said, and unwrapped a stick of gum. “I’m sorry…about last night. Didn’t mean to shake you up and freak you out like that.”

Noah stared at me in disbelief and lifted an eyebrow slowly. “Really?” He seemed to relax at that. 

“Pfft, no,” I popped the gum into my mouth and started chewing like it meant I was in control of something. “You’re the one who punched the shit out of my face and cried to your ex about me.”

Noah scowled and shoved past me once more. “Asshole,” he muttered. 

I followed behind him, hands in my pockets. “Hey, Riles,” I said.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“You think you’d be pissed if I fucked David?” I replied, smirking a little. “Or is it the other way around? Cause I can’t see that guy taking it up the ass. You?”

Noah dropped all the books he was carrying at once. “Shit!” he hissed. 

The books hit the floor in a chaotic scatter, paperback spines clacking against wood, one sliding out into the aisle. Noah jerked down immediately, crouching so fast his knees almost knocked the shelf. “Shit—” he hissed again, quieter this time, like even the sound of it felt too loud in here. Then he started scooping them up, a little too aggressively, stacking them wrong once before correcting himself, jaw clenched so tight I could practically hear it grinding.

I stayed standing, watching him, still chewing gum like none of this had consequences.

“Wow,” I said, dragging it out. “Down for him that bad, huh?”

Noah straightened up fast, books clutched tight again, jaw locked like he was trying to force the whole moment back under control. And for a second, it almost worked.

I mean, almost. Until the lights went out.

The bookstore snapped into darkness so cleanly it felt intentional, like someone had cut the wires to the power box outside. Even the hum of the place died with it. No air-conditioning. No distant register beep. No soft shuffle of pages. Just sudden, thick silence swallowing everything whole.

Noah froze, and so did I.

“Okay,” I muttered around my gum, suddenly a lot less amused. “That’s new.”

Somewhere deeper in the store, something creaked. A slow, deliberate shift. Then Noah’s voice cut through the silence in a whisper. “Don’t move,” he said.