Page 39 of Twisted Obsession

Two years. There are two years of Melody’s life missing, and I’m determined to find them.

Because I can’t punish her for leaving me when she doesn’t remember.

When she can’t tell me why or where. When I lived out a nightmare those first few weeks of winter break my senior year of college, and she was just…gone.

15

MELODY

“Idon’t think I should work for the team.”

Jacob turns away from the window, his eyebrows drawing up.

It takes a lot of effort not to stare. His white t-shirt clings to his frame, giving a hint of the abs that I know hide under the fabric. His biceps are huge. The tattoos on his arms—well, I want to know more. I want to hold his wrist and twist his arm every which way, examining every bit of ink.

An insane urge.

“Coffee?” He goes to the kitchen and ignores my statement.

But I thought about it. My social media is practically nonexistent. Even the page I was able to see, there were only fifteen posts.Fifteen. I need to look at them in closer detail, but it’s a shockingly low amount. Not when other people have hundreds or thousands.

I don’t know the first thing about TikTok or making a hockey team look good—or, really, whatever social media is about. Driving people to the games? Gaining fans?

I’m not even a fan.

“I’m going to continue my search for a different job.” I trail him.

My gaze catches on a framed drawing. It’s large and takes up the perfect amount of space on the wall. It’s charcoal, I think. The artist captured a woman’s profile, but it’s like it’s consumed by darkness. There’s darkness all around, giving it a chaotic feel.

I don’t stop until I’m right up next to it, taking in every inch. The way the artist managed to draw her hair as fluttering in her face, but not obscuring any of the other details. Not her nose, or her lips, or her dark eyes pointed skyward.

Ifeelsomething when I look at it.

I just don’t know what.

Jacob stops beside me and holds out a mug. “Like it?”

“I do.” I take the mug and wrap both hands around it. “What made you buy it?”

He seems to contemplate the question, and I’m grateful he’s not going to brush it off. At least, I hope he’s not pausing only to say that he got it because he likes it. Because for some reason, that would be disappointing.

“It gives me a fluttering feeling in my chest,” he finally says in a low voice. “I saw it and knew I had to have it, because that girl seems lost. Maybe the artist is lost, too. Just hoping someone finds her.”

Yes. Yes, that’s right.

I eye Jacob. Up close, he’stall. Like, our height difference is drastic. And I suppose I already knew that, but it’s another to acknowledge that in the quiet moments. When we’re still.

“Do you want to remember?” Jacob asks me suddenly.

I blink, jerking back to face the drawing. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“What if the past is bad?”

“That’s a possibility…” I sidestep, putting some distance between us. I finally take a sip of my coffee, and the sweet flavor bursts on my tongue. It’s so much better than what I had made before, even though I thought I had narrowed down what I liked. “What is this?”

“Hazelnut creamer.” His eyes gleam. “Do you like it?”

“Too much.” I take another sip. Hazelnut creamer. “I thought I found out what I liked.”

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