Page 16 of Her Dark Obsession

“You don’t own me, Connor. We slept together one time. Get over it,” I tell him.

Connor tilts his head to the side. Those dark-green eyes sear into me. “Get over it? You want me to get over it?”

“Yes. I want you to leave me the hell alone. I want you to look the other way if you see me. Not stare. I want you to pretend that night never even happened.” It’s a lie. I know it is as soon as the words leave my mouth. I don’t want to forget that night, and I don’t want him to forget it either. But I can lie and maybe eventually believe it. It’s better for both of us.

I don’t like Connor O’Malley. I do not want him to push me up against this door and make me come again. I do not want those lips of his on mine. Not in the slightest.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. You see, you’re not easily forgettable, Aurora,” he says.

“Try harder,” I tell him. “You know who my family is. I know who your family is. There is no universe that exists where we are ever going to be anything more than strangers.”

“I’m not too good at doing what I’m told to do.” Connor smirks. “And I couldn’t give a fuck who our families are. I’m not done with you, and you sure as shit do not want to be done with me.” Connor steps forward, his face a breath away from mine. “Don’t go around kissing other guys to try to get me to back off. It won’t work.”

My knee jerks up, connecting with his balls, and my hands push against his chest. Connor curses and stumbles backwards. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, asshole,” I say, opening the door and storming out.

Who the fuck does he think he is? Anyone who knows me would tell you I will never let someone own me, control me. Fuck that. I’m going back to the non-feelings way of life. It was easier.Lonely? Sometimes, sure. But it was clean, simple. Whatever this is with Connor is the opposite of clean and simple.

There are still two periods left before the end of the day, but I’m done. I can’t be here anymore.

A light tap on my bedroom door sounds out through my otherwise-quiet room. The door opens, and my mom’s voice breaks the silence. “Aurora, sweetheart, you okay?” she asks.

“I have a headache,” I tell her. It’s not far from the truth. Connorisa headache, and the way my mind can’t stop thinking about his stupid face is giving me a migraine.

“You need something for it?” Mom sits on the edge of my bed, her hand pressing against my forehead.

“I took some Tylenol. I just need to sleep it off I think,” I tell her.

“What’s going on? You’re not yourself?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

She looks at me in thatmomway, like she knows I’m bullshitting but she’s not going to press me. “We’re going to Italy for a month. We’re leaving tomorrow,” she says.

That has me shooting up in bed. “What? Why? I can’t just go to Italy for a month.” Then again, a whole month in another country might be what I need to end whatever this stupid thing is that I have for Connor.

“Dante got expelled. Your father got him down to a month’s suspension, and Nonna wants a family vacation, so we’re all going,” she says. “Dad’s arranged for you to miss school, but you’ll have to keep up with your studies remotely.”

Great. I don’t really care about doing school work. I’m not smart like Dante or gifted like Orlando with his music. I’m just me. And I’m okay with that. I have no intention of going to college, not that my parents know that yet.

When you come from a family of highly-successful people, it’s hard to be the one with no drive to be the best at anything. Well, maybe killing…torture.I think those are more my calling. Maybe I can just work for the family forever? Be their best hitwoman?

My Mom would hate the career choice, but she’ll come around. She always does.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not ideal, but this is important to your grandparents,” Mom says.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

“Ten in the morning. Want me to pack for you? Should I call the doc to come check on you?”

“No, I’m okay. I can pack. I don’t need much.” Besides, it’s Italy. I can always shop.

When mom walks out, I pick up my phone and open Instagram. I might have already been stalking Connor on the app. But in my defense, he followed me first. I click on his name and tap the message button.

Me:

I have the solution for your obsession with me. I’m going away for a month. You have all that time to get over it.

He responds almost immediately.

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