Page 55 of Obsessing Over His Favorite
Lucas’s jaw clenched. The sight of her acting like he was invisible made his chest burn. His steps stilled mid-stride, and he slowly turned toward her. Her indifference wasn’t just silence—it was sharp. Cold. Brutal.
She didn’t speak. Didn’t look at him. She moved to the cupboard, pulled out her nightclothes, her fingers calm, steady, like nothing had happened.
That cold composure snapped something inside him.
“So you do remember that you have a home?” he bit out, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Emily paused for a moment, then gave him a sideways glance—barely a flicker—and turned back to her task without replying.
The dismissal in her silence lit a fuse in him.
Lucas rounded the bed and came toward her, eyes narrowed in agitation. He reached out, grabbed her arm, and turned her to face him. “Where the hell were you all this time?”
She flinched—barely, but he caught it. Her skin was cold. His grip too tight.
Realizing it, he immediately released her, stepping back with a breath that sounded like a growl.
“I was busy,” she said, her tone flat, emotionless, like she didn’t owe him anything. She moved to brush past him, her shoulder almost grazing his.
But he stepped in front of her again, blocking her path with a low intensity in his eyes.
“With Jacob Nox?”
Her steps stopped. Her chin lifted sharply as she looked at him. This time, her eyes weren’t cold. They were blazing.
“You were stalking me?” she shot back, voice sharp with disbelief.
“That asshole came to pick you up right outside my fucking office,” Lucas growled, his voice low, seething, almost guttural. “What were you expecting? That I wouldn’t find out where you go or who you're with?”
Emily’s arms folded across her chest, chin slightly tilted up, unbothered. “What does it even have to do with you?” she snapped. “I left your company, Lucas. I handed in my resignation, walked away, and you accepted it. So why the hell do you still think you have a say in what I do—or who I see?”
A flicker of something darker moved through his eyes, and without warning, his hand slammed against the cupboard behind her.
Thebangrang out through the room.
She jolted, instinctively stepping back—but there was nowhere to go. He had her caged between the cupboard and his furious body.
“Emily Crawford,” he snarled, “have you forgotten you’re still my girlfriend?”
Her eyes widened just for a moment—then her expression shifted, hardened. Fury rose in her chest.
She let out a breathless laugh. “Lucas Cantrell,” she said with a slow shake of her head, “have you everbehavedlike my boyfriend?”
Fury flashed in Lucas’s eyes. His chest rose and fell, each breath heavier than the last. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled. “When have I not been your boyfriend?”
Emily let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and hollow. She shook her head slowly, like she couldn’t believe she was still having this conversation. “You don’t even know what I like,Lucas. After all these years, you don’t know the smallest things about me. What kind of boyfriend is that?”
His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. “You’re just making things up now.”
She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself. Then she looked him straight in the eye.
“You were never my boyfriend,” she said quietly. “You’re just Lucas Cantrell to me now. Nothing more. You can’t be my boyfriend anymore.”
The room stilled.
And then everything moved at once.
Without warning, she felt the ground vanish beneath her feet. Her breath caught as Lucas gripped her and lifted her clean off the floor.
