Page 2 of Forbidden Obsessions

“Tomas, I can explain,” Vanessa says softly.

I rub my temples as I exhale a deep sigh. I have the migraine of the year. “Seems pretty straight-forward to me. Already breaking the first ground rule,” I bite out, turning my attention to organizing my desk. I’ll have my research assistants in here tomorrow to discuss the semester. I need to get all of that together, plus I have lectures coming up.

“There is nothing straight-forward or normal about this shit, Tomas.” Something about her tone gives me pause.What the fuck does that mean? Stop it, Tomas. Don’t let her manipulate you.

“Go home, Vanessa. I don’t want you anywhere near me,” I say, glancing at the clock. The punching bag at the gym is the last hope I have at me not ripping someone’s head off. If I get her to leave now, I can still make it before class.

“You might want to hear what I have to say, or do you not care what my good old stepbrother is up to?” Vanessa taunts.

I inadvertently tip my mug of coffee over, spilling it all over the stack of syllabi for my next class. “Motherfucker. You have thirty seconds, Vanessa. Start talking,” I hiss, grabbing paper towels to soak up the spill. It barely salvages them. The class is either going to have to deal with it or I’ll have to forgo the gym.

In all the time I’ve known her, this is the first time she’s looked apprehensive. She takes a shaky breath, making my unease grow. It’s been easy to hate her from afar for the past two years. I’m far too trusting. To a fault, so I’ve heard. A shadow of doubt creeps in.What if she’s as ensnared in this as me?I don't evenknow whatthisis.I push the thought away as quickly as it comes.

The stool leg scrapes the tile floor. My ears ring and the headache intensifies. Vanessa walks over, too close for comfort. Instinctively, I take two steps, backing away from her. I realize my mistake too late as my back hits the whiteboard. She’s close enough to smell her floral perfume—-a scent that’s nauseated me since I crossed paths with her years ago.

“I didn’t want to do it,” she whispers, eyes flitting nervously to the hallway.

“Didn’t want to do what exactly?” I counter, my voice equally low. Her sudden paranoia is unnerving me.

Before she can answer, there’s a loud knock on the open door. Olivia furrows her brow, and I can already see the accusation in her eyes.

“Am I interrupting something?” Olivia asks as she looks between us.

“No,” I say, closing the distance between us and wrapping my hand around Olivia’s waist.

“I was just leaving. So sorry,” Vanessa offers, scowling as she makes her way through us. Olivia elbows me as she pulls away, giving Vanessa room to get the fuck out.

Olivia paces the length of the room, avoiding my gaze at all costs. No matter which way I flip the coin, this will not end well. Between the anxiety, migraine, and the seed of doubt that was just planted, my mind is overwhelmingly chaotic. I need a goddamn drink.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I finally offer. Olivia pauses long enough to give me a deadly glare that would even make Jonathan shutter. I blink first, and Olivia resumes walking. Tense silence hangs heavily in the air.

“Tell me what it looked like, then, Tomas,” she bites out, folding her arms across her chest. There’s no way she can’t seethe unease coursing through me. I just hope I don’t look like how I feel:guilty. I need to tell her now, or it’ll be worse.

“That was my new research assistant, Vanessa,” I admit as evenly as I can manage. Olivia stops dead in her tracks, her back to me.

“The infamous Vanessa?” I wince at her harsh tone. I can already tell I’m going to be on the couch tonight. That or in the hospital again.

“It gets worse,” I sigh.

She spins. “Rip the Band-Aid off, Tomas.” Her pulse practically leaps out of her throat.

“Jonathan was here with her. Vanessa is his daughter. Stepdaughter, actually.”

Olivia sputters. “Why are they here? Is she..?” She doesn’t need to finish the thought. I know what she’s wondering, and I’m wondering the same thing.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to ask. Jonathan left a minute before you walked in. She was trying to tell me something.”

Olivia rears back. “And you trust anything she says?”

“No. Absolutely not,” I say, raking my hand through my hair. The truth is, I don’t know. Olivia is far from being a mistake, but she is part of a pattern and my poor track record of blurring boundaries.

“Is she here to stay?” she asks.

“Yes, for now.” Olivia stares at the floor, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, clearly not saying what she really wants to.

“I don’t like it,” she says, lifting her gaze to mine. I hate the insecurities and hurt written on her face.

“Neither do I,” I sigh, pulling her into my chest. The silence hangs and I desperately want to fill it, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t like the version of myself that Vanessa surfaces. If Olivia sees that side of me, she’ll leave. She left a hateful relationship once before, and I know she’d leave another one.

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