A Very Stalker Christmas: A Spicy Holiday Novella by Layla Fae

Author:Layla Fae [Fae, Layla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Emma

Logan brews excellent coffee and makes French toast for breakfast while I take a shower. It’s like he knows exactly what to do, injecting some much needed ease into my morning. Usually, it’s so hectic, I have to eat in a hurry and leave a huge mess behind, but with him here, everything is so much more relaxed.

He leaves after we eat and clean up, kissing me goodbye. As I watch him enter his home across the street, I can’t help but love that he’s my neighbor. This will make relationship logistics so much easier.

Not that we are in a relationship. I don’t know what we are, and we haven’t talked about it, but I hope with all my heart he’ll want to be with me. I’ve never felt like this about a man.

Like… Like we’re soulmates.

At work, time passes all too slowly. People are busy with holiday preparations and hardly anyone visits the library. When I get a text, I almost fall off my chair in my haste to get my phone.

But it’s not Logan. My excitement falls away, replaced by tension.

Marc: I’m sorry about yesterday. I acted that way because I miss you, but I know I was out of line. Can I come over later today? I want to make up for my behavior.

I sigh, drumming my fingers on my desk. All I want is to go home and spend the rest of the day and night with Logan. But Marc has good intentions and wants to make things better, and I do want us to stay friends. He’s a good guy, just not one for me.

Emma: Thank you. You can drop in, but not for long. I’m seeing someone later today.

Marc: Who? That Logan guy? He’s your neighbor, right?

Emma: Yes. We’re kind of seeing each other.

Marc: I see. Hey, can you remind me his full name? I think I know him from somewhere but I can’t remember exactly.

Emma: It’s Logan Hayes. See you at five?

Marc: Can’t wait.

Mrs. Whitpole comes in to return a few historical romances, and I process her returns while she roams the stacks, searching for new reads. I think about Logan and the fragile, precious bond between us. He is strong and smart, but then, he seems vulnerable, too. Maybe it’s silly and too cautious of me, but I send him a text.

Emma: Hey! Just letting you know Marc will drop by at five, but he’s not staying. Are we still on for six? We can get pizza or something.

Logan: Of course. I’ll make dinner. Don’t worry about anything.

I still drop by Mr. Brown’s bakery to get his famous puff pastries on my way home from work. He bakes them into star shapes for Christmas, and they are legendary. Then I notice a new batch of beautifully decorated gingerbread cookies and remember I promised Logan gingerbread. I grab a bit of every kind, some of them glittering with golden and silver sprinkles, the others heavy with nuts and raisins embedded in a thick layer of dark chocolate.

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