Page 93 of Obey

Nodding, my cheeks sizzle.

“I cleaned you up as best I could. You were out cold. Can I run a bath for you? Let you soak for a bit while I head down to make brunch.”

Brunch? How long have we been lying around in bed for?

“Don’t you have to work?”

“I do.” He nods. “But I can go in after lunch, and I can come back to check on you later before I go home.”

It’s like he’s thought of everything. “I like this not having to go to class, not having a job limbo.”

He chuckles. “Didn’t you graduate a couple months ago?”

Nodding, I nibble on my lip. “Went to the commencement ceremony and everything.”

“And you’ve just been here in Minnesota doing... what... since you graduated?”

I shrug. “Hiding? Avoiding having to marry Harry? I told my parents I had a job here that I couldn’t walk out of.”

“Did you?”Nowhe has questions.

“Kinda.” Another shrug. “Coffee shop server here, volunteered for an animal shelter there... nothing I couldn’t have given up if I’d wanted to go back.”

He shakes his head. “You’re far too full of brilliance and energy to waste it lying here in this bed every day forever.”

My frown reappears. “That sounds entirely too boring.”

He sweeps his lips against mine. “My point exactly. I’ll go run a bath for you.”

I try to protest, but he has no intention of listening. “Let me take care of you, baby girl. I want to take care of you.” Hepauses, kissing me again. “I need to. If I let you run your own bath and went down to make breakfast I’d feel like shit. It would be constantly on my mind that it should be me taking care of you instead of you doing it yourself.” He touches his chest. “It’s something in here.” The gentleness he uses to brush my hair off my face and drop another light kiss on my temple makes my chest squeeze.

It doesn’t take him long. He offers to climb into the tub with me and wash my hair but I’m so hungry, my growling stomach answers for me. Instead, he suggests he goes to go cook food while I soak in the tub. Before he goes, he brings me water, and the book from my bedside table, giving me a wiggle of his eyebrows when he flashes me the cover.

Sinking into the fragrant, bubbly water that’s almost-but-not-quite too hot to sit in is blissful for my aching muscles. The steam tickles my nose and prickles at my skin as I sink into the bubbles.

Washing my hair takes far less time now that it’s cut, and it’s not nearly as hard to maintain, and yet in some ways it’s even more complicated.

I take my time, exfoliating my skin, shaving my legs, giving my aching muscles some time to unwind in the water. I know I’d slept with someone before, but in many ways, it feels like I lost my virginity last night.

Or at least, it was the experience I’d always dreamed that moment would be.

Knowing Jagger needs to work later scratches at my skin like sand paper. I’m clingy and want him to stay, but I don’t want to ask him to give up his work time to spend time with his needy girlfriend.

End of the day, the guy has a job and responsibilities. Something I’m going to have to give more thought to in the coming weeks. Staying in Minnesota brings with it a world ofopportunities, but it also means I need to pivot quickly. I need to figure out a way to support myself beyond my trust fund.

I’m not scared, though. Usually, I probably would be. My mind would find a way into an anxious hamster-wheel of self-doubt and wondering whether I should have left Harry at all. But I don’t have that heavy feeling pressing on my chest. In fact, if I quiet down and listen to my feelings, I might even hear a sparkle of excitement at the prospect of choosing my own adventure for the first time in my whole life.

There it is again. A flash, a buzz of potential, what ifs, and the smell of new beginnings. What do I want my future to look like now that Harry isn’t in my life, and the weight of my parent’s expectations are off my shoulders? What do I want to do with my life?

Do I really want to be an author? Or was that a panicked answer to the question I was asked because I felt like I needed to know?

Again, the not knowing makes me excited, it fills me with hope, not terror. I finally want to move ahead into the future for the first time in as long as I can remember, and I’m ready to make my dreams happen. Whatever they happen to be.

I take my time rubbing lotion into my body, all the way to my toes. I don’t remember the last time I indulged my skin in some quality TLC. Heels, knees, and elbows get extra time, and I’m feeling like a new woman.

A real one this time.

When I stepped on the plane, IthoughtI was a new woman, or at least I thought I could be one. A new haircut, pretending to have a new attitude, thinking I knew who I was—my “fake it till ya make it” mindset wasn’t backed up by anything other than a wing and a prayer, the knowledge I didn’t want Harry but feeling like I didn’t know who I was without him pressing me into a corner.

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