Page 115 of Quiet Obsession
“Fuck what Hyde thinks,” he cuts in before I finish my thought. “It’s Millie’s choice that matters. She wantsyou, and you want her. Youdeservegood things. No matter what you think, you’re not a bad person. You’ve just been taught to believe that.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Stop, just fuckingstopself-sabotaging,” he insists, dropping his cigarette into a puddle, nostrils flared. “You’re acting like you’ll die if you give in andtry, Creed.”
I look at him, pondering his words, eyes on the up-and-coming bruise shadowing his cheek. If he’d stop interrupting me, I’d tell him I’m not backing out, but now he’s derailed that train of thought because what the hell?
Shouldn’t he be happy he’s got Hyde’s blessing?
“What are you saying, Noah?” I ask.
“I’m saying I’m out.”
He doesn’t give me time to fully process that bomb, clasping my shoulder and squeezing hard.
“I’m saying you’re crazy about that girl, so don’t fuck it up. No drinking, no bar fights, no hospitals, and don’t tell Hyde yet. You want him to know you can take care of his sister? First show him you can take care of yourself.”
My jaw’s shut tight but my chest is tighter.
Whatever that feeling spreading inside me is, it makes the back of my throat itch.
“Now come on,” he adds. “Let’s grab a beer.”
He heads for the door, leaving me to follow while my head is in riot mode, emotions and thoughts piling on and on.
Hyde, Dash, and Noah became my family over our freshman year, but I met Hyde first. It was Hyde who looked past my violence first. I’ve always considered my bond with him a level above my connection with Noah and Dash, but it looks like I underestimated the value Noah places on our friendship.
He just did something no one—not even Hyde—ever done... he believed in me.
Hyde may pick me up and put me back together, but he doesn’t trust me not to fall apart... and Noah, knowing my volatile nature, voluntarily stepped back, leaving Millie in my hands.
It’s the equivalent of giving me something priceless, delicate, easily breakable, and trusting I won’t drop it.
I swallow whatever the fuck’s stuck in my throat just as Noah knocks on Dash’s door. It swings open within seconds, “Undressed” by sombr spilling into the hallway alongside the smell of beer and something he burned in the microwave earlier.
“There you are,” he says, eyes widening a fraction on my swollen, split lip before flicking to Noah.
And back.
And again.
He whistles quietly. “You guys good?”
Noah steps past him without a word, fetching a water bottle from the fridge. He presses it against his cheek.
“No wonder you’re fucking undefeated,” he mutters.
I smirk while Hyde’s ears perk up. He’s sprawled across the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, a half-empty beer dangling from his fingers. He lowers it slowly, opening one—still bloodshot—eye that lands on me, then straightens up, his head swiveling to check on Noah.
“What the hell happened to you two?” he asks.
Noah shrugs, accepting a beer bottle from Dash as he saunters over and collapses into the couch. “My fist slipped.”
Dash snorts, offering me a beer but I shake my head. One or two would calm my nerves, but Noah’s right. If I want my best friend’s blessing over Millie, I need to keep my shit together.
“And you?” Hyde asks, a vein pulsing at his temple.
“What he said.”
