Page 30 of Savage Obsession
Yep. I’m a fucking asshole.
I told myself to leave it. To forget her. I tried to convince myself that her mail ending up in my penthouse was a coincidence. I’ve sat in her room every night for the last week after she has gone to sleep and watched her. Instead of drinking, it’s become my ritual. And fuck, I’ve never felt more at peace than when I’m watching her sleep like the angel she is.
Part of me is convinced she knows I’ve been in her bedroom each night. Another part of me gets some twisted pleasure in watching her in secret. Watching over her from a distance. Then, last night, while I was still at work, in my office watching her on the cameras, I had a drink and started convincing myself that this was all a setup. A way for Quinn to use me for my money, power, or any of the other things women have used me for in the past. One drink turned into two, and then the next thing I knew, I woke up on the couch in a foul mood.
I had to know. I had to ask her in person. Then I stepped off the elevator and heard her begging the electric company. And the only thing I could focus on was making sure she was taken care of.
I’m such an asshole.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sigh.
I knew.
I fuckingknew.
All you have to do is look at Quinn to know she’s genuine. Her smiles might not always be, but she only uses them to hide her own pain. And I just added to it.
Once I’m back in my apartment, I send a text to my brothers.
Xander: I’m not coming in to work today.
Then I head to my built-in bar, grab my favorite bottle of whiskey, and go to my home office, where I sit in front of my computer and watch the open browsers. All of them showdifferent locations. The hallway right outside Quinn’s door. The three bars she works at. The lobby of our building.
Cassian Black might be an irritating asshole, but the man is a genius when it comes to what he calls stalking. I call itsurvival. Because I might stop breathing if I don’t get to see Quinn Summers on a regular basis. Even if it is just through a computer screen.
After tossing aside the cap, I take a long swig directly from the bottle and lean back in my leather executive chair, waiting.
My temples throb,and I’m pretty sure there’s a blade going right through my skull. Apparently, the ability to sleep anywhere without major repercussions disappears in your twenties. At some point, I passed out with my head on my desk while watching my little sunshine work last night.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I stumble toward the kitchen, still fully dressed, shoes and all.
Thank God Shirley came back from her time off and refilled my pain reliever. Without bothering to care, I take four and gulp down an entire bottle of water with it, then lean my hip against the counter and groan.
What the fuck did I do?
Quinn probably hates me, and any chance of fucking her sweet little pussy is out the window. Hell, she’ll probably never even talk to me again. Not that I blame her. I wouldn’t talk to me, either.
I pick up my phone off the counter and see a bunch of messages from my brothers in our group chat.
Cash: Why the fuck not?
Beckett: What do you have to do that’s better than work?
Cash: If you’re going on a bender, you better be sober enough to show up to the BBQ tomorrow or Jordyn will have your head.
Kian: Jordyn is so Savage
Cash: I know. My baby is a fucking goddess.
Beckett: I know. *Wink emoji*
Cash: Fuck you, Beckett. You’re uninvited to the BBQ.
Kian: *Laughing emoji*
Cash: *Middle finger emoji*
Jesus. These assholes drive me up the wall, but they’re entertaining as hell and somehow always make me smile, even during my darkest times.
