Secret Admirer

By Celia Crown

He followed her. He stepped into her life. He claimed her.

 

Everything that he had done was for her and will do for her to ensure that she is safe.

 

He didn't have anything to hide; she can ask him, and he will certainly answer them truthfully.

 

She never did, and he merely omitted the truth.

 

He's not lying.

 

He was not a soft-spoken man with a gentlemanly demeanor.

 

Amir was just a man with a strange obsession with Charlie.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celia Crown
• Release date: Apr 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223676256

Book preview

SECRET ADMIRER

____________________

CELIA CROWN

Copyright © 2020 by Celia Crown.

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction.

The book or any portion of the book may not be reproduced or used under any circumstances, except with the written permission from the author. Public names, movies, televisions, locations, or any references are used for atmospheric purposes. Any similarities and resemblances to alive or dead people, events, brands, and locales are all complete coincidences.

Contents

Secret Admirer

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Afterword

More Books

Secret Admirer

By Celia Crown

He followed her. He stepped into her life. He claimed her.

Everything that he had done was for her and will do for her to ensure that she is safe.

He didn’t have anything to hide; she can ask him, and he will certainly answer them truthfully.

She never did, and he merely omitted the truth.

He’s not lying.

He was not a soft-spoken man with a gentlemanly demeanor.

Amir was just a man with a strange obsession with Charlie.

Chapter One

___________

Charlie

I’m sorry!

That’s a sentence I repeat over and over as I rush through the crowd.

Every day is a struggle getting through the traffic, but today is also a good day for street performers. Everyone is gathered to watch during the lunch break, enjoying the change of scenery.

I had gotten so swept up in the amazing performances that I nearly forgot I only get an hour for lunch.

Stumbling back due to the sudden halt in traffic, I collide with something hard. Despite the chilly season, the hands clasping my shoulders are scorching hot. I stagger as I gather the shuddering breath in my lungs.

A faint trace of rich musk rushes through my lungs, burning as it dominates the mixed scents coming from everyone around me.

I turn my head but don’t see anything other than a forearm with expensive ink decorating the grooves of his muscles.

The pedestrians are shouting to get out of the way while shoving against each other.

As I stand with the man’s hands on my shoulders, I mumble my gratitude to him. I would rather not be the first domino piece to fall and topple everyone behind me.

I’d die of embarrassment.

The man steers me through the crowd, the scent of him bringing a surprising sense of comfort. I get the bold idea to ask him what cologne he uses.

My friend’s birthday is coming up, and I think it would be a nice gift.

We break through the restrictive crowd, and a puff of air escapes my throat. I breathe in the fresh oxygen with a slight odor of hotdogs. I turn towards the stranger, but he is already gone.

He blended into the pedestrians. One behemoth of a man catches my attention, but I can’t be positive it’s him since his height is the first thing that caught my eye.

His burly arms do have intricate tattoos, but having ink is a trend these days.

Well, I’m not going to see the nice Samaritan again, so I don’t let it bother me.

I have more pressing matters to attend to. I rush through another crowd to whizz into the building where I work. The warmth is nothing like the man’s heated palms. His heat had breached my thick coat and lingered.

My work isn’t interesting; it’s a routine I follow to get a paycheck. I don’t mind the repetitiveness.

Throughout the day, I occasionally remember the nice scent of the man. I liked the scent, and not knowing the brand of his cologne is bothering me.

After work, I clock out with the others. I know some of them will go to happy hour, but I just want to go home and relax. They have invited me before, but I always turn them down politely.

I’m not much for socializing, even if it helps the group dynamics.

See you tomorrow, Charlie! the group shouts as they leave the building.

I wave at them and turn away. The bus stop is a block down, and I’m not the only one who is waiting. Many are lined up ahead of me, staring down at their phones.

The bus is usually on time, so I use the extra two minutes to scroll through the messages I had missed from my friend. He’s my best friend; he’s always been there for me, and I treasure him.

Parker can be stubborn. He is a cop, after all.

He’s adamant about living on his own even though rent is so expensive in this city. But he says he doesn’t want anything from his job to bite him in the ass and cause me to be collateral damage.

He’s been busy these last couple of months with an elusive serial killer resurfacing. Parker says it’s been a random series of victims, but no one can see the pattern.

Parker sees things that many don’t, but he can have tunnel-vision when he’s convinced of something. While he may be busy tracking down the alleged killer, he always checks on me and calls to ask about my day.

The bus comes to a stop with a hiss. I take out the bus pass and wait for my turn. It smells stale as I find a seat by the window. There aren’t too many people on the bus, so I have an empty seat next to me.

I am in the habit of listening to music and looking out the window. Following the lyrics in my head prevents a sleepy haze from taking over my brain.

Just as I’m about to change the song, that same cologne from this morning flows toward me. I didn’t see anyone passing me, but I know it’s the same scent.

The scent comes with a burning sensation at the back of my head. I glance over my shoulder, but no one is looking at me. The woman behind me meets my eyes briefly before turning away, her hair whipping her perfume towards me. But it’s not that rich, musky scent.

There’s a man at the back of the bus with a baseball cap hiding his face as he stares down at his phone. His black jacket is stretched tightly over his broad shoulders, and his big hands look calloused as his thumb hovers over the dark screen.

Is that the same man I saw at lunch?

The height of most people is nowhere near his massive size. He stands out because he’s big, and his form causes feelings of terror.

I’m too paranoid.

It’s probably a different man. That cologne isn’t exclusive to one person, and if I find the scent attractive, then someone else may too.

Parker is rubbing off on me; I never used to be this paranoid. I wouldn’t call it paranoia. Parker taught me to be mindful of my surroundings and to see discrepancies in my routine.

The big city is just as dangerous as a rural area.

I snap my head back when the tip of the man’s cap moves. Shame washes over me, fearful I am going to be caught staring. Even though I was staring, it wasn’t for too long.

Pulling on the buzzer, so the bus driver stops, I gather my stuff and leave my seat. Only one other woman is getting off at my stop. I peek at the mirror above the driver’s head and see the man is still looking down at his phone.

I can finally breathe when the door closes, and he’s still on the bus. I swear I’m too paranoid after all the things Parker has told me about the elusive serial killer who no one believes exists.

There is no bus stop near my apartment, so it’s about a five-minute walk. The jittery feeling stays with me, haunting my every step as the streetlights flicker on when the sky dims. I can’t believe I’m apprehensive about walking home the same as always just because I had a seed of doubt.

While I do believe there’s danger in an established routine, I still think I’m safe if I keep my guard up.

Nothing had happened by the time I made it to my door. My key briefly jams in the lock and the back of my head starts to heat up.

I swallow at the resounding pop of the deadbolt. I snap my head back and warily scan the area. It’s not fully