Page 58 of Unholy Obsession

“Daniela.”

She offers the joint again, but I wave it off, shaking my head. “My supervisor will put my tits in a vise if she finds out I’ve been smoking on the job.”

We both dissolve into laughter, the kind that’s too loud for how unfunny the situation really is.

“Tits in a vise,” Daniela giggles, clutching her stomach like it’s the best joke she’s heard all year.

I’m wiping tears from the corners of my eyes when my phone buzzes in my pocket. It takes me a minute to fish it out—my fingers suddenly feel like bratwurst. Jesus, where did she find such good weed around here?

“Dammit,” I giggle, finally managing to get it out.

It’s a text from Bane. My fingers are still clumsy, but I click on it.

Bane: Thinking of you gorgeous.

I sigh dreamily and type,

Me: Back at you, Sexy.

Daniela squints at me, her grin slipping into something sharper. “Ugh, I know that look. Don’t fall for his bullshit, whoever he is.”

“Not all guys are bad news,” I say automatically, but my voice wobbles like a chair with one short leg.

She tips her head back against the wall, exhaling like I’m exhausting. “Oh, naïve sweet summer child.”

I snort. “If you knew me, you’d know naïve is the last word to use. Besides, how old are you? You look twelve.”

She scowls. “I’m twenty.”

“Well, I’m twenty-two. That makes me your wise elder.”

“Blow it out your ass,” she fires back, grinning. “My sister’s twenty-two, and she’s shit at telling good men from bad ones.”

“She knew enough to send you here when your boyfriend got violent.”

Daniela scoffs with a bitter little sound. “As if she’s one to talk.” She looks at me, her gaze sharp enough to cut. “Your man ever lay hands on you?”

I waggle my eyebrows. “Only when I want him to.”

She shakes her head, exhaling smoke. “Just wait. All men are dogs. You met his mama? Any of his friends?”

I frown.

Um. No. Not really.

Her face shifts into an I-told-you-so expression, and my heart sinks to my stomach, then down out my asshole.

“Be real,” she says, grinning now. “You’re his sneaky link.”

“I’m not.”

He’s just British. All his family lives back there. I think.

She arches a brow. “Do you even go on dates outside of his apartment?”

I open my mouth. Then close it. “Well… it’s my apartment.”

But even as I say it, something cold creeps into the pit of my stomach. Because—shit. The bishop said we couldn’t be seen together. Or was that just the most convenient story ever to keep me out of his business becausefuck?—

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