Page 17 of Her Dark Obsession

Connor:

Where are you going? And do you really think a month is long enough to forget me? You’ll need longer than that, mo mhuirnín.

I copy the last words he typed and paste them into Google to find out what it is he keeps calling me.My sweetheart.Oh, hell no. Opening the social media app again, I write back.

Me:

Wasn’t obsessed to begin with, so nothing to get over for me. And I’m nobody’s sweetheart, asshole.

Chapter Eight

She’s supposed to be back today. I’ve gone the whole damn month without reaching out to her while she’s been in Italy with her family. Did I obsess over her social media every time she uploaded a new post? Absolutely, but I’m not ashamed.

I resisted the urge to message her. She says she wants me to forget about her, but she doesn’t. Aurora’s been more active on social media this past month than she ever has been. Postingpictures of herself with captions directed at me, or at least that’s how I read them anyway.

I’m probably seeing what I want to see. Still, I don’t fucking care. She’s coming back. Her last Snap yesterday was of her in her bedroom, commenting on how good it was to be home.

I mostly wanted to prove her wrong, prove that a month apart wouldn’t douse the fire that’s ignited between us. I know she feels it. The fact that I’ve gone back to instantly looking for her through the crowds tells me that fire isn’t dimmed in the slightest. If anything, I’m more hungry for her than I was before she left.

I’ve kept myself busy working for my dad, doing odd jobs while trying to decipher what he’s actually up to here in New York. The more time I spend in this city, the less I’m missing Boston. Which I guess isn’t a bad thing.

“Hey, Connor, I missed you on Saturday. You said you were going to be at the party.” Melissa, one of the cheerleaders who’s been trying to hang off me for the last two weeks, wraps her hand around my arm. It’s her way of trying to claim ownership. I know that. I’m about to shake her off, but then my eyes are drawn behind Melissa and I spot her. The girl I actually want to own me.

Aurora.

And she looks downright pissed, her glare honed in on where Melissa’s hand is on my arm. When she looks up at me, our eyes connect—and, oh, she’s more than pissed. Which is why I smile at her and let Melissa step in closer to me. She wanted me to forget her. This is what she wanted, so I don’t know why she looks like I just killed her cat.

Turning my attention back to Melissa, I shake my head. “I had other shit I had to do,” I tell her. Usually I would have shaken her off by now. The fact I haven’t makes her more bold as she moves a hand to my chest.

“Why don’t we meet up at lunch?” Her offer isn’t the least bit tempting. A chorus of gasps has me looking back down the hall, to where Aurora is pressing her lips against some guy’s mouth.

“Who is that?” I ask Kenny, shoving Melissa aside.

“Timothy, stoner,” Kenny says. “Also about to be a dead man when her cousins find out about that little show.”

Not if I get to him first.

“Catch you later,” I say, heading towards the exit I saw this Timothy kid walk out. I brush right past Aurora. “Hope you made it worth it for him,” I tell her and keep walking.

It doesn’t take long to find Timothy behind the building smoking a joint. Grabbing him by the shirt, I catch the fucker off guard and throw my fist into his face. The joint drops from his hand and smoke billows out of his mouth as he chokes on it. My fist slams into him again and again until I’m pulled off him.

“Whoa, man, walk it off.” Some punk-ass kid pushes me. I throw a punch at him before I turn and stomp away. Aurora is there, by the door, watching the whole damn thing.

“This isn’t a game you want to play with me, Connor. I will win.” She smirks at me.

“Who says I’m playing a game?” I counter while shaking out my hand.

“Do you really think you can just go around and beat up every guy I kiss?”

I shrug. “Don’t see why not.”

“Maybe I’ll just follow your lead and start kissing girls, then. It didn’t look like you spent the last month lonely.”

I smile. “Jealous?”

“Are you?”

“Insanely,” I admit.

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