Page 96 of Pretty Obsessed

Was he done with this? Whatever this was. If so, I'd rather he ripped the Band-Aid off. But how did I even ask him? It wasn't like I could demand the information from him, not when I'd insisted on no expectations.

I had to keep my head in check, but how? I didn't know how to control my feelings around him. I'd never had this problem with anyone before. My feelings were very much in my control before.

"Right, it's late for you. I keep forgetting. Why aren't you asleep?”

"I had my phone on, so I'd know when you got home." So simple and yet his words warmed me through.

My smile shone through my voice. "I like that."

"Good." The firmness in his tone gave me reassurance. "Will you be around when I get up for the day?"

I looked at my smartwatch to check his time. "I'll make sure I am."

"You don't have to do that…" The lightness in his voice brought me even more joy.

"I want to."

"I'll see you in a few hours."

I felt good about the conversation when we hung up, but the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I’d blown it.

I didn’t want them to, but Pat’s words took root in my brain. Was I trading someone who cared about me for someone who didn’t? I didn’t really believe River didn’t care about me. We were friends. But in the same vein, Pat probably did care about me in his own way. But I didn’t expect fidelity from River. He’d never lied about who he was, while Pat had led me to believe I was the only person for years.

Maybe I wouldn’t get a call from River tomorrow. I wouldn’t blame him after my rant.

I chucked my phone to the other side of the sofa. I needed to order food and look at these pages. Then maybe try and plot out the rest of the book so I could have some damn idea on when I’d be finished with this thing.

I stared at my phone for another minute before forcing myself up. It was the middle of the night. He’d be sleeping. He’d call me in the morning and explain.

Nineteen

River Wade

Ireached for Emory as consciousness began to form. The slow pull from the darkness, eyes yet to open, but the mind seeking all the comforts of sleep we find in the waking hours. Soft and happy things. One of the reasons humans enjoyed sleeping with one another, I suspected.

My fingers brushed skin and a smile captured my lips, but the feel of it was all wrong. Cold and clammy. Sticky with a light sheen of sweat despite the cold room.

Iris.

My heart sank. Emory was gone. Home. About as far away as he could get. Half a world away.

I slipped from the bed, leaving Iris to sleep off last night's antics, taking my phone to the balcony with a cup of coffee.

River: Are you around?

I didn't expect the message to be read right away but it was. Like he'd been sitting with his phone in his hand. I wanted him to be waiting for me.

Emory: Yes, you slept late.

I pushed the video button and my face stretched into a smile when he answered.

He pushed his fingers into his hair as he came into view. "A video call?"

"I want to see your cock."

"I figured you'd want to see my face." He played coy, but he wasn't offended.

It turned me on. "I enjoy your face, but right now I'd much rather see how hard you are for me."

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