Page 12 of Pretty Obsessed

I got to my feet, following him out to the balcony. He leaned with his back against the rail. I took the spot next to him, resting my forearms on it, looking out at the city.

"I don't know."

"Come on, River. Don't let it build, nothing good comes of that." He was right of course.

“Pot, kettle.” I didn't want to think of the last time I'd let it get out of control. There were reasons for the way I kept my life and intimacy. "It's probably better if I don't."

"You used to talk to me.” His brow pulled.

“You used to talk to me, too.” I shook it off. I accepted months ago we weren’t as close as we used to be. “I don’t need to put more on you.”

"Can you stop treating me like I'm a fucking piece of glass? Everyone else does, and they have their reasons, but not you. Don't do that to me. I can't handle it." The sudden outburst surprised me. Even for an addict, Iris was extremely reserved, rarely showing his hand.

"Blame Cas for that," I said, and it was the truth. Cas told us not to stress Iris out.

"Cas can fuck off. I'm fine." The edge to his voice told me more was going on between those two than normal.

That earned him a raised brow. “And yet nothing going on that you want to talk about?"

They’d gotten quite close, but their relationship had always been volatile. Hot or cold, and could change at the drop of a hat. I’d seen them screaming at each other ten seconds before going out onto stage then acting like they were screwing for the crowd. No one could deny their sexual chemistry on stage. Guitarist and lead singer. They made it work to their advantage, giving every shipper hope they were secretly sleeping together with the looks they shot across the stage, and how they would almost kiss when singing into the same microphone. There were times I’d have believed the rumors about them had they not nearly torn each other apart the second the mics were unplugged.

"No," he said again.

"If I talk to you, you need to talk to me." Maybe if I let things out, he'd open up.

"Fine."

"I made out with someone. Completely unprompted." And I wasn’t paying them, but I didn’t add it. No one knew my shame.

Iris stared at me open-mouthed. "How did that come about?"

"We had intense eye contact then started talking and it just happened."

He turned towards me, holding me in his stare. The intensity and pain in them hit straight to the heart. Iris was the most of any person I'd ever encountered. How so much was contained in a wiry frame I'd never know, but I feared he'd burn too hot and too fast and I'd lose him.

"Don't look at me like that,” I said.

"Like what?" He tipped his head down so the loose strands falling out of his man-bun fell into his eyes.

“Like my best friend.” My chest burned with missing him.

“Who hasn’t touched someone in as long as I can remember— This is a big deal.”

“Your memory isn’t good.” I gestured at him, trying to lighten the mood. “This, don’t look at me like this."

"You gestured at all of me." He glanced down.

“Yes, that. Stop being all of that right now?” I laughed.

“And here I thought I was the attractive one.” Iris tried to sound offended but his laughter gave him away. It felt good.

“That’s Alister,” I said.

“I can’t even argue with you there. Man is fine.” He shook his head, smiling.

Alister was our bassist. He had an old Hollywood attractiveness to him that couldn’t be faked. He was entirely charm and charisma. Like if the Rat Pack had melded with James Dean.

It felt good to see Iris smiling.

---