Brandon's POV
"Brandon."
My name echoed down the hallway. A chill ran through me. The three girls who had just ambushed me for autographs were long gone, but I hadn't moved an inch. Casey stood several feet away, her sharp eyes locked onto mine like a predator that had finally cornered its prey.
What were the chances?
Every plan I'd made had been based on one simple rule: Don't let Casey see you. Yet here we were, face to face.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded as she started marching toward me. My pulse hammered in my ears, loud enough to give me away. This wasn't the plan. She wasn't supposed to see me, and she couldn't know I'd been trailing her.
Think, Brandon. Think.
But my mind was blank.
"What are you doing here?" she repeated, slower this time.
My tongue felt heavy in my mouth.
"Casey, I—"
