Page 14 of Obsession on Repeat
Releasing me, he pulled himself away from the door. "Hurry up; I want to take you out to lunch."
"No offer to wash my back?"
"Tempting, but lunch first."
At a small, downtown restaurant, I waited at a table by the window as he talked to the cashier, handing her money to pay for our order. The young blonde blushed at the attention, quietly thanking him and handing back his change. Several of the staff had greeted him the second we entered.
"We’re popular everywhere, aren’t we?"
He chuckled as he sat down across from me, shrugging nonchalantly. "I’ve eaten here a lot the last week. It reminds me of home."
"Where is home? Los Angeles?"
"Yeah, I’ve lived there for five years now. Lainie and I moved around a lot as kids. My father was in the military. My mother is originally from Perth, and when he retired, we lived there a while."
"Well, don’t worry; you’ll be home in no time."
"You don’t sound too upset by that."
I played with my napkin. "You have to go back at some point, right?"
"What about you? Is there a place you’ve ever called home?"
"No."
He studied me before glancing over his shoulder as our number was called. "Be right back."
I continued picking at the napkin until it was in tiny pieces. When he returned, he slid our food between us, and I retrieved my sandwich from the plastic tray.
"So, where were you born?"
I paused with my sandwich halfway to my mouth. "New Jersey."
"Do your parents still live there?"
"My mother died when I was twelve. My stepfather didn’t care what I did after that." The words tasted strange coming out, I hadn’t said them in years—or ever out loud to another person. "I left home when I was sixteen, and I found ways to feed myself until I was able to get my first turntable. I've moved from place to place making money."
"You don’t stay in one place for too long."
I shook my head. "I love seeing the world. A home is nothing more than a place you sleep."
"How long have you been in Australia?"
"A year and seven months," I answered.
"Where are you going next?"
I reached for my drink, my fingers tightening around the plastic. I didn’t look at him. "I don’t know."
Sullivan reached for his sandwich; his head bent as he unwrapped the foil from around it. "You could always come back with me to Los Angeles."
I froze with the cup half-way to my mouth. "Why would I want to do that?"
"I’m sure I could help get you some work." He looked up with a smile. "I know a few people who’d love to have you at their parties."
"I appreciate the gesture, but LA isn’t my thing." I concentrated on my sandwich again. "I don’t know if I’m going back to the United States anyway."
"When was the last time you were there?"
