Page 9 of Pretty Obsessed

"I was clear at the beginning of this. No sex.”

“Yes…but…” She didn't try to mask her disappointment.

"I apologize." My words were stiff, and I wanted to back away further, but there wasn't a place to go.

"I just thought…"

"I know. You're lovely, but I’m leaving town soon and these things don't work out."

She nodded.

I took both her hands in mine. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She looked at her feet. "It's impossible to stay mad at you even if I hoped…"

"I've been told I have a charm about me."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Rockstars." She huffed out a laugh.

I forced myself to hug her. "You're beautiful. Don't let anyone sell you short of that. It's me."

"That's what they all say." She shook her head when I pulled out of the hug. "It will be a great story for when I'm old and don't care about the NDA anymore."

"Deal." I smiled at her, already searching the room for Emory.

She kept talking, but I'd mentally stepped out of the conversation. I made a note to have my assistant send her something nice. It wasn't her fault I was as emotionally unavailable as they came.

I didn't see him.

"Have a good day." I walked away mid-conversation, desperate not to get drawn into more talking and her trying to continue the night.

He wasn't where I'd left him. Maybe he'd wandered off to write. He couldn't have gone far. I made a round of the club, then another. He was nowhere to be found. He'd said the bartender was his friend.

I strolled with purpose towards him. Surely he'd know where Emory had gone or could give me his number. He glared at me as I approached. Maybe he wasn't a friendly guy, but I had charm on my side.

"I'm looking for the writer who was sitting here before, Emory—” His name tasted like magic on my lips. "He said you two were friends."

"No," the bartender replied.

"No? Like you don't know him or…?" The word so foreign to me. I wasn't often told no because of who I was and for something so simple.

"No is pretty easy to understand, buddy."

"Pardon me, I wasn't trying to give offense. I was merely—"

He cut me off. "I don't care what you were trying to do. He walked away. Take the hint."

The curt reply caught me off guard.

"I don't mean to keep questioning your judgment, but did I do something to offend you?"

He leaned across the bar a snarl on his pierced lip. I took a step back, feeling like he was going to grab me. "You don't take no for an answer. I know your type. Rich. Entitled. You guys think you own the universe and can have anything you want. No. Emory walked away for a reason. No way I'm giving you another chance to charm him out the door. Go fuck a groupie in the back." He turned his back leaving me there with an open mouth.

I touched my lips. They still burned with the taste of Emory.

I should have gone back to my hotel and forgotten about the entire encounter, but I couldn't bring myself to. I needed to see Emory again. I did a couple more laps of the club, but they were closing, and my driver came inside to collect me.

I could have screamed.

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