Page 3 of Obsession

“Brad.” She sighed. My eyes narrowed. I didn’t like her saying his name. But her sweet voice kept me from reacting to it.

“We’ve been together a long time, baby.” He grabbed the glass from her hands, setting it on the bar again. “We can work this out. Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

I couldn’t see her face, but I watched as her shoulders rounded. She was going to give in. I spent a lot of hours reading body language, trying to understand people.

When they’d first walked up, she’d looked in charge. Now she looked…small. My head tilted as he grasped her hands and led her toward the exit.

I grabbed the ledger, following. My fingers curled around the leather again as I stared at their joined hands. But my attention was diverted from where they touched. It focused on her.

She had on those tights with lines up the back. Was that to draw your eye? Because it was working.

Her dress was black, covered in fringe. They swayed with her body. The movement was oddly soothing. As was the bounce of her round ass.

I never noticed things like that. We were all just body parts. Skin and bones. But hers…hers were put together well.

From her curls to her petite little feet. And everything in between. The curve of her hips to her delicate neck.

My fingers itched to trace them. To see if they felt as good as they looked. If she was soft. Warm.

The summer air was sticky, but crowds still waited to get into the club. They mingled on the sidewalk. Their conversations and excitement mixing with the sounds of the city. The cars and horns. The rambling of the subway.

My spine seized again. The noises assaulted my senses. I needed to find her. Hear her.

My eyes scanned the crowd, but they weren’t there. I’d only been steps behind them, so I knew they hadn’t driven off. I looked for curls. Black fringe.

There.

My gaze caught on her, standing at the mouth of an alley. One shoulder leaned against the brick wall of the club as she stared at Brad. He mirrored her position.

They were deep in conversation. She crossed her arms, pushing up her cleavage. It pressed tantalizingly against the low cut of her dress. Small wrinkles creased her forehead and around her mouth.

My feet carried me closer. I needed to hear what she was saying. Needed to confirm this reaction to her voice. It was quickly becoming a fixation.

I knew the signs, but I was powerless to stop it. I had to let my obsessions play out. It was impossible to deny them.

Of course, I’d never obsessed over a voice before. Or a person.

“There’s nothing to say.” She huffed again. “You cheated. It’s over.”

It was her tone, more than her words, that soothed me. But I couldn’t ignore that part of the warmth that spread through my veins had to do with her breaking up with him.

I didn’t know why her voice drew my attention. Maybe because it was soft and soothing. Most voices grated on my nerves, but hers stopped the constant chatter in my brain.

But it started up again when the idiot she was talking to spoke. My shoulders tensed as he argued, but I drowned out his words. I had to look away, so I didn’t listen.

That’s when I saw it. Him.

A man twice her size moving through the alley behind her. Then, the gleam of a knife illuminated by a streetlight.

The ledger fell from my hands. I moved. It couldn’t cut into her pretty skin. I wouldn’t allow it to pierce her lung. I needed to hear more of that voice.

3

Lark

“It’s not what you think.” Another sigh escaped me as Brad pleaded his case.

I had no idea why he was interested in trying again. We’d hardly seen each other. Between his job at the investment firm and my transition to teaching instead of patient work, we were lucky to get a one night together every week.

---