Page 15 of Obsession on Repeat
I looked up again. "What does it matter? What’s with all the sudden questions?"
"Hey, I’m curious about you, that’s all." He frowned. "What’s wrong?"
I jerked my hand away, trying to ignore the hurt look that flashed across his face. I forced a smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. "Let’s eat, okay?"
"I think I’d rather talk."
I left my food untouched. "There’s no reason to do a background check or try to learn all you can about me. It’s pointless."
"It’s not pointless to me." He reached out to grab my hand. "Why do you keep pushing me away?"
"Because when I don’t, people get hurt, and I can’t have that on my conscience anymore." I pulled away, but he didn’t release me. "Let go."
His dark eyes studied my face, his grip tightening. "You think you’re the only person that gets scared of newthings? Of making a mistake? You’re not, but sometimes you have to trust that things will work out."
"I’m only going to ask you one more time. Let go." When he released me, I sat back in my seat, pushing my half-eaten sandwich aside. "This isn’t going to work."
"What isn’t?"
"You. Me. Whatever this is." I motioned vaguely between us. "You vanished, and all I could think about was that day on the beach and how it felt to—" I stopped myself, jaw clenched. His eyes were locked on me, unreadable. "I don’t let people in. Not because I’m cold or dramatic or some cliché damaged girl, but because when I do, they want more than I can give."
"Did someone hurt you in the past?"
I let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. "Everyone’s been hurt. That’s not the point."
"I’m sorry."
"For what?"
"For vanishing. For pushing you to meet my family." He didn’t look away. "I’m not used to this. The way you don’t pretend to be anyone else around me. It’s… different."
Something in my chest twisted. Not enough to let my guard down, but enough to where the sudden tension wasn’t so palpable. I picked up my sandwich, took a small bite, and chewed. "I’m still annoyed."
He grinned, picking up his sandwich as well. "Trust me, I’ll make it up to you."
Sullivan insisted on walking me to my door. Right as I entered, my cell phone rang, and I barely heard him shut the door behind us as I answered. "Hey, Alice."
"Have you seen today’s paper?"
"I don’t exactly have a subscription," I frowned. "What about it?"
"You and your new boyfriend are on the cover at the beach together. Do you need a reminder of what you’re doing in the photo?"
"Oh, my God."
She laughed. "Was that what you were saying at the time?"
"Shut up, this isn’t funny."
"Unfortunately, it’s quite serious. Paparazzi came to the club a few minutes ago asking for information about you; two of them with cameras, press passes, the whole thing. They asked for ‘the mystery girl in the booth.’ Danny told them you didn’t exist."
I slumped onto the couch, panic already knotting in my chest. "This can’t be happening."
"I’m not sure how, Rory, but they knew your name."
"I have to go." I ended the call before Alice could say another word. "This is exactly what I was afraid of," I muttered. "One photo, and suddenly I’m a headline, a story they get to make up."
Sullivan stood slowly from the stool near the kitchen counter. "We’ll handle it—"
