Page 20 of Pretty Obsessed

“Stop looking. Everyone wants you. You don’t get this one.” I shot him a glare.

Iris laughed. “They don’t really want me. They want singer clout or some shit.”

“Still happens.” I didn’t expect to lose Emory to Iris, and that would kill the fantasy real fast if he was more interested in Iris.

“I’m not denying it. Sit down. Chill out.”

I did as Iris said and sat back, trying to relax. Emory was still talking to the bartender.

“That guy really doesn’t like you,” Iris said. “Want me to go over there? I need another drink. I can distract the asshole.”

“If by distract him you mean blow him, I don’t want that on my conscience.” I made a disgusted face but lost it to a fit of laughter.

“He’s not really my type.” Iris laughed and turned a bit pink.

“What is your type?” I didn’t take my gaze off Emory as we talked. I didn’t want to risk losing him again.

“Faceless in a dark room when I’m high so I don’t have to have any sort of human connection? Sounds a little unhealthy when I say it out loud.” He pulled a face.

“At least you’re self-aware?” I laughed. I wasn’t going to pass judgement.

He laughed with me. “Self-reflection is the first part of change.”

I broke the eye contact with Emory to blink at Iris. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He smiled down at his drink. “We’ll talk later. Your boyfriend is coming over.”

“He’s not my…” I trailed off when Emory got near. “Hello there.”

“That’s my cue.” Iris got to his feet.

“You don’t have to go,” I said, half-heartedly.

Emory nodded at Iris, who was already making his way towards the bar, ignoring what I’d said.

“Him I recognize.” Emory took the seat Iris had vacated.

“I’m quite happy I can fly further under the radar than Iris can. It makes his life immensely more complicated than mine is.”

“I can’t imagine,” Emory said. “Back again?”

“I was hoping to see you.” I went with simple. The truth.

He glanced at my lap, and I was quite happy not to have someone between my knees this time. “Why?”

His word sounded like he wanted to believe me, but he needed more evidence. I was happy to provide it.

“Because you left abruptly yesterday and I wanted to continue our conversation.”

“Was our conversation what you wanted to continue?” His words came with a level of skepticism.

“I can assure you, it is the conversation I am after, the rest was icing.”

He finally let the smile curl over his mouth, repeating my words. “The rest was icing.”

“And I wouldn’t object to it happening again, but first I’d like you to have a drink with me.”

“I should be working.” He glanced at his bag where it sat on the stool.

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