Page 38 of Obsession on Repeat
"Hey yourself," he said warmly. The background noise suggested he was somewhere crowded. "Miss me yet?"
I smiled faintly, despite myself. "Maybe a little."
"Only a little? I must be losing my touch."
My eyes flicked involuntarily toward the hallway again. "It’s been a busy night."
"How’d it go?" He sounded genuinely interested, his tone gentle. It twisted the guilt in my chest tighter.
"Everything was great."
He hesitated a beat, voice dipping into something softer. "I wish I was there."
I squeezed my eyes shut at the sincerity of his words, leaning against the wall. "Me too."
"Are you okay? You sound off."
"I’m fine. I’m processing some stuff."
"Stuff." He repeated the word carefully. "Anything I should know about?"
Asher’s words echoed in my mind. "No," I said firmly, pushing that memory down deep. "Nothing important."
Sullivan didn’t respond immediately. For a second, the silence stretched, thick and uneasy. "Okay." His voice was calm but guarded now. "Promise me you’ll talk to me if it becomes something."
"I will."
"Good. Get some rest. I love you, Rory."
My heart clenched, guilt and longing warring inside me. "Talk to you soon."
12
Ginawaswipingdownthe bar, humming to herself as she polished glassware. She glanced up as I approached, eyes immediately narrowing with curiosity. "Okay, you’ve got the face." She lowered the rag. "Spill."
I slumped onto a bar stool, crossing my arms against the counter. "Things are complicated, and I have no one to talk to about it."
"Talk to Dr. Gina." She leaned on the bar, fully attentive.
"Sullivan and I have been fighting a lot lately."
"About what?"
"Everything. Nothing." I rubbed a hand over my face. "We keep arguing about how fast things are moving. Six months ago, I didn’t know who he was, and now I’m living with him, trying to rebuild myself all over again. He wants more, and I’m barely keepingmy head above water."
Her eyes softened with understanding. "It’s a huge, life-changing decision to make so suddenly."
"It’s massive, and now, every conversation we have feels like walking through a minefield. I haven’t been able to say ‘I love you’ back. He keeps saying it, and it… hangs there."
"You don’t feel the same?"
"I think I do." My voice cracked slightly. "But what if saying it makes it hurt more if it doesn’t work out?"
She was quiet for a moment, studying me. "Maybe it’s supposed to feel that way. Loving someone isn’t safe." She tapped her finger gently on my arm. "You’re terrified of losing control."
I let out a shaky laugh. "I know, and I hate that."
"Look, Rory," her voice lost all traces of teasing, "I don’t know him, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you."
