Page 53 of Pretty Obsessed

"Yes." I dropped my fingers away from the inked rose.

"Then what changed? He's having issues with Cas?" Concern showed in Emory's eyes.

I brushed my thumb along his cheekbone. "No one will tell me, but now that he doesn't have Cas, I am worried about him."

"Maybe you should see if your agent or manager or whoever can get you a satellite phone."

I shook my head, torn between always taking care of Iris and having something for myself. "No, I don't want to introduce that into your peace. I'll call him, but I want a life, too."

He pressed his forehead into mine. "If you need to leave at any point, I'll understand."

I nodded, but I didn't want him to. I didn't want this to be complicated. I loved how easy things were with Emory.

"We got heavy real fast." I laughed in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"I guess that's what happens when you stalk a guy to his remote cabin and move in with him."

"Ha ha ha. If you're not letting that one go, I'm not letting your leaving go."

He narrowed his eyes. "I guess we should accept our situation and agree to let it be what it is."

"And what is it?" I asked, wondering if he'd finally processed it.

"Fuck buddies… like you said last night. We can enjoy each other's company as long as it lasts. Until you have to leave.” Emory chose to be blasé about it, or at least appear that way.

It stung, but what more could I expect? “And what if I want this to go on after I leave?"

He didn’t meet my eyes. "I guess we'll have to see how it plays out.”

Eleven

Emory Ker

Existing in a tiny cabin with a stranger was a strange experience, or it should have been. It wasn’t with River, and I think that’s what made it truly strange. We became a working unit, a peace I’d never experienced existing with another human. He was easy to live with. Our habits fit. He wasn’t the type that needed to fill all the silence with words. It was comfortable.

He was comfortable.

I’d look up after hours and hours of work, expecting the frustration I used to see from the ex-hole, especially when I’d miss dinner or tell him I needed a few minutes more—which would turn into hours—but I never found that with River. When he’d meet my eyes, there was another expression entirely.

Would my habits get old? Maybe he found the writing endearing because it was new. I searched my memory but it came up blank. I think once I’d let the ex-hole into this part of my life, the annoyance existed immediately.

The ease and connection with River didn’t fade, not after two days of it.

I was up early working, or late—time didn’t matter up here—when he climbed out of bed with disheveled hair and glanced at me and my headphones. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he made coffee and placed it on the side table next to me but didn’t linger. Not even a thank you was required.

I’d expected some interruption before he started his day. But he didn’t give me a second look. He took his coffee and a Kindle to the porch and sat reading. I think that was the most shocking thing to me. He didn’t interrupt me, and I still got no work done. I was too busy observing him. He may have stalked me to the cabin, but I was the one watching him through the window.

He was lovely there, not polished or posed for the cameras like he was so frequently. This was River in his natural state, all his attention on his eReader. Occasionally, something would catch his eye, and he’d look up at the forest or a bird for a moment, but it was right back to the book. He devoured it.

People so rarely read like that anymore. There were so many distractions nowadays. But he had none of it. He stayed out in the cool weather wrapped in a massive blanket with coffee and his book for two hours, leaving me astounded.

He was the perfect companion for the cabin. It almost made me wish he could be a permanent fixture fuck buddy who could come up here with me. But I knew myself. If I opened up to more with River, I’d fall hard. There was no way not to. I’d never met a more genuine person in my life, and the way he continued to surprise and delight me, it was only a matter of time.

“Lunch?” I asked when he came back in, rubbing his hands together.

“Yes, something warm. Do you have anything like soup?” He kissed the top of my head as he walked towards the kitchen.

“I was going to make it,” I said.

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