(Ryan's POV)
I found myself in the same place I always did on Saturday nights—hunched over my laptop, headphones on, pretending I didn't have better s**t to do.
I did, of course. At least, I should have. I should’ve been out, maybe running drills with the pack, or meeting girls or ANYTHING else that didn’t make me feel like such a f*****g stalker.
But somehow, I always found myself back here, week after week.
For the thousandth time, I told myself to close the tab. My mouse hovered over the cross for a moment, but then I pulled it away, unable to bring myself to do it.
I told myself it was just curiosity. That I only checked in every now and then. That it wasn’t a habit. That it wasn’t a problem.
But that was a lie.
I’d been watching her for years now. And tonight, for the first tim
