Page 76 of Shadowed Obsession

“Uh–-kind of. I guess.” Except he’s also seen my pussy and came on my bed.

“What’s he look like? Show me a picture right now,” she whisper-shouts.

The only picture I have of him comes to mind, causing me to squeeze my thighs together.

“Sooo…I don’t have one? I’ve never seen his full face because he wears a mask.”

I brace myself, because now that I’m saying this out loud, it’s even more ridiculous than it sounded in my head.

She scoffs. ”You’re fucking with me right now.MyDeirdre doesn’t live life on the edge. You need an itinerary for every adventure.”

She isn’t wrong.

“I know, but this fell into my lap unexpectedly,” I add, taking another bite of my food.

“Have you? Fallen into his lap by chance?” she asks with a smirk.

The waiter approaches the table wearing an awkward smile as he refills the mimosa pitcher. “How is everything?”

There’s no way he didn’t hear that.

But us women are notorious for having the most outrageous conversations in public.

“Amazing,” we rush to answer, our voices overlapping each other.

“Great. Need a refill on that water? ” he asks Skye, eyes dropping to her empty glass.

“Yes, please. Thank you so much,” she answers.

When he leaves, I blurt my response, knowing he’ll be returning soon.

“Not exactly, but I may have let him talk me through it…and use a toy on me at work.”

Her jaw drops. “You nasty girl. I am impressed. Does Alora know?”

Uhh. About that.

We’re interrupted once again by the waiter returning with a frosty pitcher to refill Skye’s water. We wait for his exit to continue.

“Not yet. She has so much going on right now, and I don’t want her to worry.”

Alora isn’t judgmental in the slightest. I attribute that to her being raised by a lawyer and a therapist. She’s the “airtight alibi” friend. The “use her whiteness to keep you out of trouble” friend.

They’re both ride or die in their own ways.

“So, you wantmeto worry instead?” She giggles. “Well, we have to tell her eventually. Shit. I’ll do it with you,” she cackles over her words.

“Thank you. This isn’t an easy thing to share. Given how strange it is,” I add, trying not to feel shame over my questionable choices.

“Wait. What about the guy you met at the club? Have you talked to him?”

I nod. “Xavier. We’re going out next weekend,” I say hesitantly, knowing Scar may be listening.

“How will, uh, what’s his name, feel about this?” she whispers, taking to glancing around as well, as if she knows what he looks like.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I reply before sipping more of my drink.

My phone chimes expectedly, and I flip it over, anticipating a text for confirmation that he’s listening right now. Sure enough, he is.

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