Page 30 of Obsessive Love

I examine his furrowed brows and the hint of worry in his eyes and then nod my head, begrudgingly agreeing not to snoop anymore.

He sighs, standing to his full height again, and unlocks the bathroom door, cracking the door open and peeking into my empty room.

"Want to go get some food or something?" he asks over his shoulder.

I glance around the barren room and then turn to Jaylen with a smile on my face.

"How about a shopping trip?"

He looks at me, confused, and then hesitantly nods.

"Give me five minutes to make myself look more presentable and find my stupid wedding ring, and then I'll meet you downstairs in the foyer. Make sure your car's empty because I'm going to need a lot of space. Oh, call Jess and ask if she wants to join us!"

Chapter Twenty-One

Sophia

"Jess, it's fine. It's not like I have anything else to do, so we can go shopping again another day. There's no need to apologise for not being available," I say into my phone as I stare at the butterfly clip in my hand that I removed from my veil whilst Jaylen drives towards the shopping centre.

"You could apologise to me though," he grumbles. "I'm now stuck with her and I'll have to give my opinion on stuff."

I laugh at the same time as Jess does through the phone, and when Jaylen glares at me, I quickly say goodbye to Jess so that I can try to capture a picture of his fierce expression.

His lips tilt up a slight amount as I snap the picture and then he leans over to look at it, sending us both into a fit of laughter at how weird he looks on my screen.

As he turns into the parking lot, a phone call notification pops up on the dash of the car, and when I see that it's Kaleb calling him, I lean over and press the red button, ending the call.

"Sophia!" Jaylen shouts, shaking his head.

"He's called you three times already. Maybe he'll finally take the hint that we're not going to talk to him."

Ironically, Jaylen's phone then begins to vibrate in the cupholder. Once. Twice. Then, a third time.

I roll my eyes as Jaylen swings into the closest parking spot and picks up his phone, scanning the messages that he's received. He scoffs and shakes his head before his thumbs fly across the screen, furiously typing his reply.

"This dickhead must really think he's something special," he mutters, turning off his phone and leaning over to put it in the glove compartment.

"What did he say?"

"He's asking for our location and reminding me that he's now your secondary bodyguard so he should've been notified that we're out. I told him that he doesn't need to know anything and that I'm perfectly capable of looking after you myself, then I told him to fuck off and leave me alone, hence why I'm now hiding my phone because I'm scared to see what his reply might be."

"Wow. Is the great Jaylen King actually intimidated by someone?" I ask, chuckling at my cousin when he playfully scowls at me.

"Come on. Let's get this shopping over and done with so that we can get back to Jericho's and hopefully avoid them both again," he says, turning off the ignition and unlocking the doors.

After being away from home for years, I forgot how our family's presence affected the people of London. The nods of acknowledgement from some and the judgemental stares and whispers from others that you walk past is something I don'tthink I'll ever get used to, but it seems worse now that I'm walking around with this band on my finger. Some people are looking at us with fear in their eyes and once they search for the ring on my finger and find it, they're scurrying across the street and avoiding us at all costs.

As we get closer to the furniture shop I want to go to, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket. Jaylen laughs as he watches my actions.

"Soph, your wedding pictures have been plastered across social media for the past two days, and an article was released in every newspaper across London. I don't think hiding your hand is going to stop people from staring at you like some zoo animal," he states, scanning the streets around us before opening the door to the shop.

I hurry inside, wanting to get away from all the people outside. As the door closes, I hear a quiet gasp from somewhere in the shop before a tall, blonde woman in a cream pantsuit rushes towards us.

"Mrs Rossi!" she shouts, tripping over her own feet as she continues towards us. "It's a pleasure to see you in our store. How may I help you?"

I frown at the use of her formal tone and the name she calls me.

"Please, call me Sophia," I tell her, holding out my hand and waiting for her to shake it. "I'm here to look for some furniture to decorate my room. I need linen, blankets, cushions, maybe even a footstool or something, I'm not quite sure."

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