Page 20 of His Coveted Obsession

“Not at all. It makes you really special,” I admitted. Being so open like this took some getting used to, but the more I did it, the easier it became.

“I like that. I like that you tell me those things, since people aren’t very straightforward.”

When the server brought our drinks, I raised my glass and food. “To being straightforward?”

He clinked my glass in return. “To being straightforward,” he recited.

“So, where were you yesterday?” I asked, taking a sip of my soup, which was light and brothy, with some tofu and seaweed. It was really good. “I didn’t see you at the coffee shop.”

“I was working. Since you weren’t there today, I didn’t bother going in.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, fiddling with my chopsticks, trying desperately not to gush. “Aww, that’s sweet.”

Ugh, I had such a crush on Easton. There was no dancing with words, no game playing, no lies. It was comfortable, taking uncertainty out of the equation.

Thomaswouldn’tstopsmilingat me, watching my every move, and listening to every word I said with those dimples front and center. I had no idea why I was drawn to them. Between his sweet glances and words, he made me feel… worshiped, even without me being someone else. He worshiped me as I was. Or so it seemed.

I looked forward to fucking him tonight. I would’ve done it earlier, but I understood enough that a date first was appropriate to win someone over. Thomas appeared to enjoy it, and he liked the sushi, gushing over the flavors and rambling about how he regretted never trying it before.

I felt strangely proud that I chose correctly. It was a feeling I was only familiar with because of Sid, who regularly praised me forjobs well done. I appreciated Sid’s words and his recognition of my accomplishments.

“My dad is a liar,” he said with his mouth full of sushi.

“Oh?”

“Yep. He wasn’t always that way, but when Mom died, he got into gambling as a coping mechanism.”

I should ask how his mother died, right? Was that an appropriate question? Yes.

“How did your mother die?”

“Lymphoma.”

“Blood cancer.”

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry.” That was definitely the right thing to say, because he smiled so sweetly.

“Thanks. My point is that I like how you’re so honest and straightforward. It’s hard to find these days.”

But I wasn’t. I was honest and blunt, but I also had lies to protect myself and my family—things Thomas would never learn about.

“It’s complicated to placate and mince words. I find it easier to say what’s on my mind.”

He breathed a happy sigh and nodded, shoving more food in his face. “Yes! I love that. I have to be honest with my dad, too, so he knows how much he hurts my sister and me. I have to keep pushing that guilt, you know?”

“You have a sister?” That was another good question, right? Ask questions about a person to get to know them. People like that.

“Yeah, Annie’s the best. She’s younger, fifteen, but we’re really close. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

I took a sip of my root beer, taking my time to eat while Thomas devoured his as if he hadn’t eaten in ages, despite his claim of not wanting to eat much. Perhaps I should feed him more. “I’m an only child.”

“What are your parents like? Are they nice?”

“They’re dead.”

“Oh, shit… Sorry.”

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