Page 85 of Volatile Obsessions

‘Cause you don’t have a choice.

No. I dismissed the thought faster than it’d hit me. This wasn’t me. I didn’t fuss over men like this, ever.

But he’s not just any man…

No, he wasn’t.

I groaned again and shot upright from my place on the couch. Ramsey stirred slightly, mumbling something about ten points to Ravenclaw, before rolling over on her side and falling silent once more.

How could she sleep so soundly when I was wired?

Probably because she wasn’t busy obsessing over a man she had absolutely no business obsessing about.

I felt myself pale.

My God...

I really was obsessing, wound tighter than a fucking spring. If I didn’t zen myself soon, I’d likely combust before morning.

Alcohol hadn’t done a thing except magnify my vulnerability.

Marco had the weed, and we’d lost him hours ago.

But Suki had cigarettes in her purse.

I eyed it on the floor with the rest of our belongings.

Very rarely did I smoke, more socially than anything else, but a smoke had honestly never sounded so good.

A little burst of nicotine was sure to chill me out...

Snatching it off the light travertine, I rifled through her mass of shit. The pack was near the bottom. I pulled a cigarette free and the lighter, too. Both went into my bra before I enabled the flashlight on my phone, and then I was out the door.

Sans boots for the sake of being quiet.

There wasn’t a soul in sight as I trailed through the house. Most of the doors were shut for privacy, though you could still hear the sounds of sex, or laughter, or various handheld radios every few feet or so.

I couldn’t help but wonder what room he was in.

If he was fucking her.

If he was enjoying it.

If she was still in his bed, caught in a naked tangle with him, her lilac hair splayed out all over his inked chest.

Indignation bloomed deep in the pit of my stomach. Teeth baring slightly, I clenched my fists at my sides and kept on down the hallway, beseeching the voice in my head to spare me of those images.

But as I slipped around the corner, maybe a hundred feet from the front door, the images in my mind were laid out before me in the flesh.

Only worse.

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