Page 7 of Stuffing My Obsession
I’ve never had someone look at me the way Myles Carter does. Like he could pin me in place without even moving. Like he sees right through me, and maybe he does…
It should freak me out. It should make me want to run. Instead, it draws me in—like a moth to fire.
Mabel called him the Grim Reaper. Said he was cold, silent, dangerous. The kind of man who gives her chills when she passes him on the stairs.
And yeah, I can see it. The buzzed hair, the scar that cuts faintly along his jaw, the big hands that grip the wheel like they were made to crush bone. He’s built like a killing machine, every line of his body sharp and controlled, not a single ounce of softness on him.
But that’s not all there is.
Up close, he’s different. He listens. He pays attention in a way most people never do. His silence doesn’t feel empty; it feels heavy, magnetic. Like every word I say matters.
Like I matter.
And now, here in this truck with him, I can’t stop noticing everything. The way his shirt clings to the muscles in his shoulders. The way his veins stand out on his forearms when he tightens his grip on the wheel. The faint stubble shadowing his jaw. Even the way he smells—clean soap, leather, and something darker I can’t name but makes my stomach twist in the best way.
He’s handsome in a brutal kind of way. Not pretty-boy handsome. Not the safe, charming type. A dangerous cut-edge kind of handsome, laced with an enigmatic aura.
He’s exactly the kind of man my mama warned me about…
Mabel wasn’t wrong about him being intimidating. He is. Everything about him screamsdon’t mess with me. But she was wrong about the rest.
Cold? No. His silence isn’t cold. It’s sharp, deliberate. Like he doesn’t waste words, because when he finally does speak you’ll know he means it.
Dangerous? Maybe. Okay, yes. But not the kind of danger that makes me want to run away. It’s the kind that makes me feel safe, because it feels like he’d take on even the devil himself…
And I like it. I like it too much.
My stomach flips at the thought. I tear my eyes off him before he notices me staring. Again. I press my palms flat against my thighs, trying to ground myself. It doesn’t work. His presence fills the truck, heavy, electric. I can feel him even without looking at him, like his energy is wrapped around me.
It’s ridiculous. I barely know him, but my body reacts to him anyway. My heart is racing, my skin prickling like I’ve beenplugged into something I don’t understand. I don’t know what to do with it, so I do what I always do when I’m nervous.
I start to talk.
“So…tell me about yourself.”
Myles doesn’t say anything for a while, and just when I think I’ll be ignored for the whole trip, he shrugs, clearing his throat lightly.
“Nothing much to talk about,” he says in a flat tone. “I don’t have much going on.”
“Captain mentioned you were in the Army,” I say, watching his face. “Can you tell me about that?”
His jaw locks tight at the mention of the Army, and instantly I know I screwed up. His whole face shutters, like I just yanked open a door I had no business touching.
“Sorry,” I rush out, heat blooming in my cheeks. “That came out wrong. You don’t have to…I mean, obviously you don’t have to tell me anything. Forget I even asked.”
He doesn’t answer. Just keeps his eyes pinned to the road, hands steady on the wheel, shoulders rigid.
Great. Perfect. Now I’ve gone and made things weird.
I chew my lip, fumbling for words to patch the silence. “Anyway, um…me. I can talk about myself. Let’s see. I’m a terrible singer, but I still sing in the shower like I’m auditioning forThe Voice. I burn pancakes ninety percent of the time, but somehow I can bake pies without trying. Captain says it’s a gift. I think it’s just dumb luck. Oh, and I—”
My stomach growls. Loud. So loud it practically echoes in the truck.
I slap my hand over it, horrified. “Oh my God. Please tell me you didn’t hear that.”
His mouth twitches, eyes still straight ahead. “Hard to miss.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “This is so embarrassing. You’ve been driving for hours, you must be starving too, and here I am sounding like a dying whale.”
