1. PARANOIA

1

PARANOIA

C harlotte's heart sank as she stared at the textbook in front of her, overwhelmed by the sinking feeling she'd made a grave mistake by moving four hours away from home to Athens for college.

She stretched her back, shifting on the hard seat of the chair at her classmate's small dining room table. If she didn't want to serve tables or work a cash register for the rest of her life, she needed to be here. That understanding did nothing to settle the yearning for her family and friends back in Rosebrook Valley.

Monique drew Charlotte's attention away from the book. "When I took the financial statement you prepared to Mr. Kay to get his input, he told me the list of total expenditures was wrong."

Charlotte frowned. "Wrong? What's wrong with it?"

Monique pointed to a column listing several high-cost trips Mr. Kay and his wife had taken to various well-known vacation spots around the country. "The vacation time. "

"And?"

"He said they didn't take any vacation time this year."

Charlotte blinked a few times. She wasn't mistaken in her research. For confirmation, she glanced toward their other project partner, Rachel, but she was in the kitchen staring out the window at the rain.

Monique sighed, lifting another form to inspect it. "That man never leaves his computer."

She wasn't wrong. Based on the logs he provided them, if he wasn't working, he kept busy playing the stock market. But his bright red nose and arms were a dead giveaway that at least the trip four weeks ago to Puerto Plata was accurate. No one would be that much of a lobster hanging out in the Georgia sun—even someone as pallid as him. The sunburn he sported made his skin appear tight and painful. The blistered spots dotting his red and shiny skin made Charlotte suspect sun poisoning.

"He's lying," she said with confidence. The receipts from the beginning of May refuted his claims.

Rachel dropped the curtain and stepped around the bar separating the kitchen from the dining room. "He probably is. I mean, look at him, he looks like a tomato."

"Oh, I know." Monique waved a hand. "His wife was bragging about the VIP accommodations at the resort they stayed at when I met with her last week to pick up the paperwork." Muttering, she added, "Lucky bitch."

Rachel groaned and dropped her shoulders. "I wish I could take a vacation. It's June! We're supposed to be at the beach, not crunching numbers."

Charlotte pressed her fingers into her eyes, trying to ease the ache behind them from an impending headache. The stress of the situation was taking its toll on her, manifesting itself as a throbbing pain in her temples.

The front door of the apartment opened. "Who wants coffee?"

She looked up from the paperwork at the lighthearted query. Noah, their fourth study partner, stood in the doorway holding a tray of drinks, the hood of his navy-blue sweatshirt partly hiding his face.

"Noah! You're an angel!" Rachel rushed over and took the tray of drinks from his hands.

"Caffeine addiction isn't healthy, you know," Noah said, stepping into the apartment and shutting the door as Rachel snarked about him buying them anyway. He pushed the damp hood from his head and shook out his chin-length, curly brown hair. Dropping into the chair next to Charlotte, he set a bag in front of her. "Got you an apple fritter."

She looked into the bag and then back at Noah.

"I know you hate coffee." He gave her a half smile. "Everything okay?"

Her stomach chose that moment to growl. She'd forgotten to eat lunch again.

She huffed, ignoring how her cheeks heated. "Yeah. Mr. Kay is just being difficult. How are we supposed to finish this project if we can't get him to cooperate? Mr. Hernandez's paperwork is already squared away, and Monique finished the spreadsheets for the PowerPoint presentation already, but with Mr. Kay contesting whether the data is factual, I don't know what to do."

Rachel took a seat next to Monique on Noah's other side. "He's so full of it," she said, before sipping on her coffee. She hummed with contentment. "God, that's the good stuff."

Noah turned his attention back to Charlotte. "What's going on?"

"The vacations his wife confirmed, he's denying," Monique said. " It's easily ten grand in the last twelve months. We can't overlook it."

The bright scent of citrus, lavender, and sage of Noah's cologne wafted up when he leaned in to study the paperwork. Charlotte glanced over at him, taking in his sharp profile. His nose wrinkled, his dark brown brows lowering over narrowed blue eyes.

"Put it in anyway." Noah slapped his hand on the table as if to say, "problem solved." He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's just a project. He's not going to see our presentation, and these reports don't go to the IRS. It's on him if he doesn't claim everything when he files his taxes next year."

She considered his words. While true, once they got their degrees and moved into the world where companies hired them to do their accounting, they might run into these situations. They needed to know how to handle it. This was the kind of thing that landed people in jail. She tore a piece off the fritter and stuffed it into her mouth, once again wondering if she made a mistake in her choice of major.

Almost halfway into the summer extended session at the University of Georgia, she felt at her wits' end. It didn't help that homesickness lay heavy on her heart.

She couldn't imagine how bad it would be if she had to take all the non-major courses before delving into her accounting program. At least by taking general education classes through the Dual Enrollment program her counselor recommended during her junior and senior years in high school, she was on track to enter her junior year in the fall instead of starting as a freshman.

Other than school trips, she hadn't left Rosebrook Valley much without her mothers. She thought moving only four hours away wouldn't be so bad. That she could gain some independence at nineteen. But she didn't expect the aching loneliness.

She wiped her fingers on the napkin and pushed the paperwork over to Monique. "Noah's right. It's not on us if he commits fraud or whatever. We're not actually working for him. We got the numbers. Professor Landers only needs that." She yawned.

Rachel set down her coffee. "What else is left?"

"I need to put the spreadsheets together for Mr. Kay's business, and then you can work your graphic magic for the PowerPoint, and we'll be good to go," Monique said, tucking the papers into her backpack.

"So we don't need to meet anymore?"

Rachel threw a balled-up piece of paper at Noah. "You're not getting away from me that easily, handsome. We still have to get together to study for our next test."

Noah tilted his head, his brown curls falling over his eyes. "We do?"

"You weren't there last week, but Professor Landers said the tests after the midterm project is over has group sections based on the previous things we've done together."

Noah glanced at Charlotte. "Looks like we'll be seeing more of each other."

She shrugged. "Looks like it."

She glanced at Rachel, who frowned and quickly looked away. Rachel's crush on Noah was obvious, but he appeared either oblivious to her feelings or unwilling to upset her. At twenty-six, and working on her second degree, Rachel was older than all of them. Charlotte couldn't help but wonder if the age gap was the reason for his disinterest; Noah was nineteen, same as her.

Some people were into an older woman and younger man, but from her experience, it was the other way around. She shuddered at the memory of all the older men propositioning her when she worked at the diner through high school and for the following year .

A dream job, it was not.

Rachel stood and tossed her empty cup in the trash. "We should get together and have dinner to celebrate wrapping up this nightmare project."

Noah looked up at her. "We're not finished, though."

"I know." Rachel toyed with the ends of her straight black bob. "but we'll be finished by the weekend. Why not then?"

"Where do you wanna go?"

She shrugged. "I'm up for anything."

"I'm gonna need loads of alcohol after this is over," Monique quipped. "Why don't we go to a bar instead?"

"We could go somewhere like Applebee's. There's a bar there, and we can eat as well. I don't drink," Rachel said.

"You don't?"

"No."

"Well, that settles that," Noah said. "You like Applebee's?" He looked at Charlotte.

"I've been a few times. It's alright." She liked their chicken wonton taco appetizer.

Monique looked at her phone and stood. "Let's talk more about this tomorrow. I've gotta get going. Jayden's here to pick me up. Do you need a ride to your apartment? It's been raining." She looked at Charlotte.

"No, I'm good. The bus stop isn't far."

"Will you be in class tomorrow?" Monique shifted her attention to Noah, putting her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yeah." He stood and picked up a large box sitting on the floor beside the table that held all their research materials that Monique had brought to their meeting. "I can't miss any more days. I've had to take too many personal days. "

After they left, Charlotte packed up her things while Rachel cleaned the table. She wanted to ask about Noah, but Rachel got to it first with a smile.

"So, you and Noah?"

Charlotte tucked her red curls behind her ears. "He's nice, but there's nothing there, no."

She figured it best not to pretend she didn't understand exactly what Rachel meant. The looks her friend gave them whenever Noah showed any kind gesture toward her spoke volumes. Rachel wasn't nasty about it; the looks were curious. With Rachel's obvious crush, it didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce there might be lingering jealousy in those looks—even if the interactions she observed were entirely friendly in nature.

Rachel leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter, clasping her hands in front of her. "He know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does he know you're not interested?"

Charlotte lifted her chin. "I didn't say I wasn't interested. I meant there's nothing between us. He's not said anything to me, and I haven't to him."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. "Well, he's interested."

Charlotte sighed.

She wasn't not interested in Noah, but she wasn't thinking about a relationship either. Her main goal was to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. If she returned to Rosebrook Valley, she wouldn't see Noah anymore, anyway. Whether he felt anything for her was irrelevant. She wasn't interested in short-term hookups. "It doesn't matter. I might change my major, and he won't even see me after summer session ends. That's only like a month and a half away. Not much can happen in that short of time. "

Rachel stood upright, her mood shifting, her face holding concern. "Change your major? Why? Is everything okay?"

That sounded more like the Rachel she had gotten to know over the last few weeks in class. Up to now, the girl didn't hold ill will toward her, but maybe Rachel's feelings for Noah would change that.

"Well, I'm not passionate about accounting, if I'm honest. I really want to help my moms out with their businesses, so I chose accounting, thinking it would help when I finished, but it's soooo boring." She sat back in her chair and huffed. "There's other business-related stuff I could study, but I don't even know if I want to stay in Athens. I miss home."

Rachel sat down next to her. "It'll suck if you go, but you gotta do what makes you happy. If this shit isn't making you happy, then don't do it. This kind of career is not for people who don't like it. Numbers can be really boring, even for me, and I like this stuff. Besides, if you change majors, then I get Noah all to myself."

Charlotte widened her eyes.

Rachel laughed. "I'm kidding—sort of. I like him, but not enough to be a bitch about it. Besides, sometimes he seems weird."

Charlotte laughed and shook her head, stood, and then picked up her bag. If she wanted to make the bus, she didn't have time to question what Rachel meant about Noah being weird. It wasn't like her to gossip about good people anyway. "I'm at least going to finish this semester either way. I'm not going to leave the group high and dry." She put her backpack on her back. "I better get going. The last bus will be by soon."

Rachel waved a hand at her. "No worries. We can talk more later if you want. I can help you figure out a major that appeals to you and will help out your parents."

When she stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of Rachel's apartment, Charlotte blew out a breath, thankful the rain had finally stopped. She still needed to walk to the bus stop, and with the humidity and the rain, her curls would turn into a frizzy mess.

Peeking at her phone for the time, she shook her head. She only had five minutes before the bus passed through. Glancing around, she frowned at the shadowed areas of the yard across the street from the complex. The streetlamps casting a soft light on the sidewalk made it difficult to see anything with the lights off inside the home. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling something, or someone, waited in the darkness.

Turning away, and ignoring the weird feeling, she headed toward downtown with Rachel's words spinning around in her mind. Why should she stick with a career that wouldn't make her happy? Even if it would help her achieve her goal of helping her parents, she hated the idea of doing something she didn't enjoy for the rest of her life.

She groaned, impatience growing while she waited for the light to change so she could cross the street. Normally, the wait wouldn't bother her. The bus stop wasn't far, about a block away from Rachel's apartment, but it was catty-corner across a major intersection on Hickory, forcing her to use two crosswalks in a row to get there, waiting for traffic and the light change both times. With her sour mood from the regret over her major choice, she wanted to get home as soon as possible. Even with the long wait for the lights, this stop beat the closer bus stop near the North Oconee River, which was way too dark. She didn't like walking close to so many trees in the middle of the night.

In the distance, noises drifted up from campus; but overall, the nighttime air remained quiet around the deserted crosswalk.

After the light changed, she crossed. She'd heard footsteps on the pavement behind her as the signal changed, so as she paused on the other side to push the button for the walk signal, she glanced back the way she came.

Standing several feet from the place she had stood before, a man—or at least what she assumed was a man, based on his build and height—stood with a hood over his lowered head, hands tucked into the front pockets of his hoodie. She couldn't see his face, even though he stood beneath a streetlight. Lights from the dorm apartment windows on the side of the street she stood on didn't reach the other side, and with only a grass lot behind him, no other light helped her see the man clearly.

She turned back to the street in front of her and exhaled hard, her cheeks puffing out. Ignore it. He's not following you.

The small figure on the crosswalk sign illuminated, indicating it was safe for her to cross. She fought every urge she had not to sprint across the road to the other side.

Whether driven by survival instincts or sheer foolishness, a voice inside her cautioned that running would only make her appear vulnerable—more vulnerable than she already appeared being a smaller woman walking the streets of Athens near midnight.

She could have let Noah walk with her. But she'd done this walk several times without incident and didn't consider the need for extra precautions with how close the bus stop was. She could see it from here. Walking around this late near campus wasn't abnormal for coeds.

Footsteps sounded behind her as she continued up the hill to the bus stop only a couple of streetlights down from the crosswalk. The hair lifted on the back of her neck. She didn't want to stop, but if she didn't, she would miss the last bus. She peered up the street and breathed easier seeing the familiar headlights of the approaching bus.

Stopping beneath the green sign, the bus hissed as the driver put on the brakes and opened the doors. Charlotte braved a glance back in the direction of the man.

Nothing.

Had he turned down Hickory Street? Did he turn back and go into the dorm apartments? She scanned her surroundings as the bus approached and came to a stop, but no one else stood on the streets.

Maybe her new medication had the unwelcome side effect of paranoia. She needed to Google that later. Getting jumpy over a pedestrian on the street, just because—

"You gettin' on, hon?"

She spun to look up at the older woman sitting in the driver's seat. "Yeah, sorry." Climbing the steps onto the bus, she showed her UGA student ID card and took a seat near the front. She didn't feel comfortable being alone, and with no one else on the bus, the driver would have to do for company.

Leaning on the window, she looked out at the street as the bus drove in the opposite direction of her apartment; it would eventually circle back and head toward her street.

As the bus chugged through the intersection, she saw the hooded man leaning on a lamppost watching the bus until the dorm apartment building hid it from view.

Okay. Maybe not paranoid.

She pulled out her cell phone to distract herself, opening her texts to find three missed messages. One from her mom regarding the full moon on the twenty-third of June—the Flower Moon, she called it. Normally, the peculiar messages wouldn't be concerning, but her mom had been harping on how something big loomed, and that by the summer solstice her life would be forever changed. The words had her on edge with the recent strangeness.

She checked her phone calendar. June tenth.

Midterms fell on the same day as the solstice, but the professor scheduled the presentation earlier in the week. It made her wonder what, if anything, was going to happen next Friday.

When she was younger, her friends often thought her mom's eccentric words and beliefs were related to her Native American heritage, but they were wrong. Stereotyping her mom that way felt offensive. She never forgot where she came from, but most of her insight came from elsewhere. Charlotte had felt something mystical about her growing up, but now the idea seemed silly.

She glanced back down the street through the window. Even knowing she was far from the man, she still couldn't shake that feeling of being followed.

Turning her attention back to the phone screen, she swiped away her mom's message and opened the one from her ma. The message brought a smile to her face. Her ma had found the owners of the Pittie Charlotte rescued before her big move to Athens.

If someone brought a stray to her ma's veterinary clinic, they would take them to the local shelter instead of keeping them on board, but there was something special about the big-eyed pupper she couldn't refuse, so she begged her ma to keep him. They posted flyers everywhere, hoping to locate the owner. He acted friendly, making it obvious the dog had owners and wasn't a random stray, but he lacked a microchip and tags.

According to the text, the owner's five-year-old opened the back gate, and that's how the dog—Oliver—escaped. They didn't keep a collar on Oliver at home to avoid a choking hazard, but with the scare of losing the furbaby, they purchased the chipping service from her ma's clinic .

After sending a quick reply, she swiped away the message and opened the final unread text.

Aiden:

This game isn't as fun with randoms.

Smiling, she tucked her phone away, not wanting to wake him with a response if he was asleep. Her ma kept her phone on silent, so she wouldn't see the reply until morning.

Another reason leaving Rosebrook Valley weighed on her… Aiden Easton.

In the last year, they started getting to know one another through a series of strange circumstances.

Her best friend, Blaire, received a scholarship to join Blackthorn Academy, the mysterious and ultra-exclusive university in Rosebrook Valley. She wasn't jealous Blaire got in and could stay in the area, because she had needed to escape a dangerous situation. Blaire's stepbrother was a monster.

Charlotte leaned her head back on the seat and sighed. If only she could be so lucky to be offered a scholarship at random like that. She missed her best friend and wished she could visit and spend the night together like they so often used to.

That wouldn't happen though. She didn't know if it was an elitist thing or what, but she never entertained the weird rumors circulating the town about the Blackthorn Academy, even before getting to know some of the students in Blaire's new friend circle.

Small town gossip in the South often swayed in the direction of religion; the misunderstood were marked as sinners or evil. A tale as old as time, religion thriving by feeding on the fears of the unknown.

It wasn't a secret that a majority of the older denizens of Rosebrook Valley believed the school a front for a cult, and the students followers of Lucifer.

She laughed to herself.

Idiots, the lot of ‘em.

Remaining isolated behind elaborate gates, not allowing outsiders in, and not involving themselves in social events in the region didn't help Blackthorn's reputation.

The middle and high school branch locations operated the same.

She recalled one couple complaining to her ma while their dog received a checkup. Not only had they not been able to enroll their child in Blackthorn Primary, but they offered no extracurricular programs outside of school for her little boy. "Not even a peewee football team," the wife had complained.

All of the Blackthorn schools lacked sports teams. Which was basically sacrilege in the South.

Charlotte had met all of Blaire's new friends from the academy, soon becoming fast friends with the manic pixie Riley, Aiden's younger sister, who now worked for her mom as an apprentice at the clothing boutique. While she was a year or so younger than Charlotte, Riley was finishing her sophomore year too, working toward a fashion design degree. It surprised her to learn Riley skipped a grade in middle school.

Aiden had reached out when Blaire got kidnapped by some weird guy who became obsessed with her, and ever since, he had kept in close contact. Charlotte welcomed the connection.

Blaire and Riley believed something was happening between them, but there was nothing. Not that she would be completely against it. Aiden was a sweet guy, and gorgeous, too.

They just shared similar interests. It turned out he loved video games as much as she did, and it was nice to have a friend to game with online; Blaire wasn't into it. But they had little time to play together online anymore since she joined UGA, so their communication had dwindled.

She struggled to convince herself staying in Athens was a good idea.

Approaching her apartment, she cringed. A bundle of pink roses lay in front of her door.

Quickening her steps, she reached her door and unlocked it. She picked up the wrapped bundle and rushed inside, not bothering to see if anyone lingered in the hall. After the man on the street earlier, and now the roses, she needed the safety of her studio apartment.

Closing the door behind her and locking it, she carried the bouquet into the kitchen. She placed the roses on the long granite counter. A small white note card tucked into the flowers taunted her. Instead, she turned to glance around the apartment for anything out of the ordinary.

A tiny closet only big enough to house a stacked washer and dryer behind a door divided the living area from the bedroom area. Against the left wall of the laundry room, a small entertainment center faced the living area. On the right side of the laundry room, her headboard butted the wall beside a window with small fairy lights draped over it. A small night table with a lamp draped in a sheer celestial print scarf to dim the light fit next to the bed. The remaining space at the foot of her bed held a tall chest of drawers. A closet with mirrored doors took up most of the wall on the far side of the bed.

On the opposite wall from the dresser, her computer, several candles, and tiny plants decorated a small desk with two framed star charts representing the night sky when she was born, and the other, the night sky the night she was adopted. A bathroom on the other side of the wall behind her desk afforded the only privacy in the small apartment. The door to the bathroom stood to the right of the kitchen area.

Nothing looked out of place, but sweeping her apartment for any disturbance had become a habit for her over the few weeks since the rose deliveries started. Even if it were only a secret admirer, it still made her paranoid. Guys who liked her in the past didn't come to her house or have gifts delivered, so this situation was completely new to her, and she didn't like the feelings it elicited.

She crossed the living room to sit on the small gray loveseat under a line of framed art prints of the various zodiac signs represented by fairies. The loveseat sat perpendicular to the sliding glass doors, facing the entertainment center. Kicking off her flats, she grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television, turning the volume down low. She wasn't interested in what was on the screen, only the background noise it provided.

She pulled out her phone and leaned against the throw pillows in the corner of the loveseat to scroll through TikTok, distracting herself from the unpleasantness on the counter, but eventually, even songs made from cat noises couldn't stave off her curiosity.

For almost a month, everything remained consistent. Pink roses were left in front of her door with no clue as to the sender. Never had there been a card included, and it got under her skin that the status quo changed.

Throwing her phone on the cushion, she stood and stomped over to the kitchen, pulling the note card from the bouquet. Flipping open the flap, her blood ran cold at the typed note.

You looked lovely this morning. Purple suits you .

She looked down at the lavender short-sleeved blouse she wore with a pair of dark jeggings. Anyone could have seen her in her outfit that morning. She went out for breakfast, stopped by her advisor's office, and attended classes. The University of Georgia wasn't a small school. On average, total enrollment was over forty thousand. Fewer students attended in the summer—around sixteen thousand—but that left tons of options. Whoever kept leaving roses for her didn't have to be in her program of study.

Then there was whoever kept following her.

For longer than the roses started showing up at her door, she had the feeling of someone following her, but hadn't been certain. Until tonight. She hadn't seen anyone before now, so she questioned if being so far from home was to blame for her paranoia.

Rosebrook Valley was a town you could walk around in without question at any time. Athens had the same kind of casual atmosphere where students walked the streets at night without worry, but the population was larger, and the shops, bars, and restaurants weren't condensed to a small outdoor outlet mall. The larger area took time to get used to.

Still, she had questioned her sanity whenever she suspected someone followed her, and now she tried to rationalize the unwanted attention as side effects to her antidepressants. Anything to not accept the sickening reality.

A crash in the bathroom made her yelp and drop the card. She rushed back over to the front door and grabbed the baseball bat she kept there for protection.

She had laughed when her neighbor gave it to her when she mentioned she lived alone. He told her his daughter who was the same age lived alone on the other side of the country. He insisted his daughter do the same thing. Charlotte didn't know how fathers behaved, never having one in her life, but he didn't seem creepy, so she humored him.

"Thank you, Trevor. I'll never doubt your intentions again," she muttered as she approached the bathroom door with the bat held high.

The door stood cracked open, and the interior light was on. Did she leave it on that morning? She couldn't remember.

Hooking her bare foot around the door, she pulled the door open and lifted the bat, ready to pummel whoever stood on the other side.

Nothing.

Stepping deeper into the bathroom, she passed the small counter where a small mirror hung on the wall above the sink and stood in front of the toilet. She poked the shower curtain with the bat, and when she didn't connect with anything hard, she pulled the curtain open. Her shampoo lay in the bathtub, having fallen from the shelf. Lowering the bat, she shook her head. Her nerves couldn't keep up.

She turned out the light, shut the door, and returned the bat to the front door before returning to the loveseat. She picked up her phone.

Almost one in the morning.

Aiden would be asleep, but her nerves were wrecked. Her mothers would only make it worse when they freaked out themselves.

With a sigh, she opened her contacts and pressed the button to call Aiden.

One ring… two… three… four… maybe she should hang up—

"Hello?" Aiden's deep voice, gravelly from sleep, filtered through the phone.

She shivered at the sound so close to her ear. She had never heard his voice like that before.

"Hi, Aiden."

Shuffling sounded through the receiver, and Aiden cleared his throat. "Charlotte? Everything alright? It's one in the morning. "

"Yeah, I'm sorry to wake you."

"No, you're fine. I was actually having a bad dream, so I'm glad you called. What's going on?"

"Bad dream?" she asked, deflecting from the question, grabbing a pitcher, and filling it with water.

"Yeah, it's nothing." He groaned. "You sound out of breath."

"I just got home." She crossed her kitchen into the living room and started watering the plants on her entertainment center in decorative planters accented in moons, suns, stars, and zodiac symbols.

"Where were you so late? Isn't it a school night?"

"I was at Rachel's apartment with the others for our group project."

She didn't even have it in her to make a joke about him parenting her like he did his other friends.

"Rachel… the girl who used to live down the hall from you?"

"Yep." She returned the pitcher to the kitchen and crossed to the living room again to sit on the loveseat. "She lives a few minutes from here at another apartment building. Her lease was up a few weeks after I got here, so she moved." She pulled her legs up, tucking them beneath her. "Speaking of moving…" She took a deep breath and blew it out, preparing herself for her next words. "I'm thinking about coming back to the valley for the rest of the summer and pick things up again in the fall."

"What? Why?"

Other than someone following me around and flower deliveries?

The first bouquet she received came the same week she started at UGA. She came to Athens at the beginning of April to get settled in, but classes didn't begin until May fourteenth. Until her first week of classes, she only felt like someone had followed her from time to time—which she tried to reason away. Now she knew for sure; it wasn't paranoia .

She couldn't tell Aiden, though. He'd think she was crazy for suspecting someone of stalking her. She hated even labeling it as stalking. Who was to say this wasn't the first time and all the previous instances were genuine paranoia? Overthinking it made her head hurt.

"I'm not sure if accounting is for me. I think a major change might be in my future. This stuff is a nightmare."

Not a lie, but not the entire story. Giving part of the truth made her feel less guilty about what she didn't tell him.

"That's fair. At least you know now and not a couple years into your degree."

"I just don't want to disappoint my moms."

Her adoptive parents did a lot for her. They weren't her biological parents. She didn't even know who her father was, but her biological mother died not long after giving birth. Her mothers didn't have to adopt her from Ireland when she was an infant, but they did.

Being not only a same-sex married couple, female business owners, and one of them being Native American, things didn't always go smoothly for them. Charlotte saw racism and bigotry growing up directed at them whenever they traveled, or when they had to do business out of town, but the people of Rosebrook Valley embraced them and their businesses. They were accepted and treated well in their home community. Another reason she hated leaving for college.

Taking in an orphaned baby from another country spoke highly of their hearts and character. She could never do enough to repay them for that. Hopefully, getting a degree that benefited their dream businesses would be a start. The career path kept her close to home and took care of her family. A win-win in her book.

"I doubt you could ever disappoint them. They love you a lot. You don't have to become an accountant to make them happy."

"I know that much, but I want to do something to help. "

"Well, if you decide to come back, are you getting rid of your apartment? If you need me, I can come up there and help you pack and bring things back down here. Or are you leaving everything until you decide?"

"I'll keep the apartment for now. I'm not even sure I can come back to Rosebrook now that I'm locked into classes."

Even if she dropped her accounting major, she didn't want to leave her group hanging on their own with the projects and the upcoming tests. She also didn't like leaving things unfinished and wasting potential credits she could earn to finish out the summer semester and potentially transfer into another business-related program.

All she knew was she couldn't continue with something that didn't make her happy. She needed to speak with her advisor and see what options were available to her and go from there.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"Sleepy?"

It surprised her that the answer was yes after everything she felt earlier.

"I think so. I have to be up in five hours." She wiggled, nestling down in the corner of the loveseat against a plush throw pillow. "I don't wanna go to bed though," she half-whined.

"Why's that?"

"Your voice is relaxing." Did she really say that out loud? She winced at the silence on the other line. Maybe she was too tired to be on the phone.

"Your voice is nice too," he said, voice dropping an octave, and the frequency went straight to her lady bits. That's new. Their casual flirting never hit like that before. That voice. It had to be the sleepy, or sleep-deprived, voice. "Definitely preferable to nightmares." He chuckled .

She bit the pad of her thumb. Oh, that lazy, deep chuckle sounded dangerous too.

When she didn't respond, trying to get a hold of herself and ignore the way his voice sent her lower half into crisis with how long it'd been since she'd allowed her body any attention from the opposite sex, Aiden spoke, his voice clearer and free of the seductiveness from before. She wondered if he wasn't even aware of how he sounded and only she was affected. Probably.

"Why don't you call me tomorrow and we'll talk more about it?" After a brief pause, he added, "I mean, if you want to. We can talk more about the apartment and stuff. Or whatever else you want."

When they talked, Aiden sometimes seemed nervous and uncertain about if she wanted to talk to him. She found it strange. She enjoyed his company. He was her friend's brother and had become a great friend to her. Why wouldn't she want to be around him? Right now, she wanted to be more than around him.

She rubbed her face, warning lights flashing behind her eyes. Stop that line of thinking right now .

Taking a calming breath, she spoke soft and calm, and not like her libido was demanding recognition. It didn't have to be him or anyone else, her libido could sit the hell down and chill for five minutes while she finished a phone call. "I have classes in the morning, but I will text you after lunch. I want to talk to my advisor to at least scope out my options."

"Good idea." He yawned. "Get some sleep. If you need me, you can call again. Don't worry about waking me up."

She wondered if he knew something happened beyond the school situation, or was he simply being the caring guy he acted like with everyone?

"Thanks, Aiden. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Charlotte. Sweet dreams."