Page 152 of Quiet Obsession
If someone had told me when I was a kid that two people would love me this much, maybe the years with my father wouldn’t have weighed so goddamn heavy.
There’s just one thing that hasn’t settled, and it’s why I’m sitting on the couch instead of sleeping beside Millie. She’s in bed, curled on her side, face peaceful and calm.
She hasn’t stirred yet, but she will. It’s been happening more often. The first time she uttered Noah’s name after she told me she loved me, I pretended that I didn’t hear it.
But I watched her the whole next day, jaw grinding whenever she looked at him. I don’t know what I expected to see, but she didn’t flirt with him, her eyes didn’t linger, her breath didn’t catch.
They were just talking.
The second time, I woke her up, made her come three times, and told myself dreams don’t mean shit.
By the fifth, I stopped pretending the idea wasn’t crawling under my skin. I asked her about the dreams, and she said she doesn’t remember much more than both of us touching her, making her feel good.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
I know she loves me. She says it often, and I feel it in her touches and kisses, but if we’re building something real, then I need to know whether her dreams are just curiosity or echoes of confusion.
Hyde and I are good.
Millie and I are fucking amazing.
The siblings are finding their footing.
But this... this is one thread we haven’t tugged, and I don’t know whether it will unravel everything we’ve fought for or pull it tighter.
I drag my hand down my face and lean back into the couch.
Noah doesn’t know how much him stepping aside to give me a chance with Millie meant. It’s more than just mine and Millie’s relationship. That’s not even on him, it was Millie’s choice, but he trusted me to grow and lookbeyond self-doubt.
I changed... and that’s all on him.
I owe him more than I could ever put into words. And if there’s one man in this world I trust enough to even entertain something like this, it’s him.
He respects her. He respectsme.
I don’t know if Millie wants those dreams to become reality. I don’t know how much my possessive, territorial side will tolerate, how far I’ll take it, or if anywhere at all, but I can’t let it fester in the dark any longer.
I grab my phone and stare at Noah’s name for a long moment before I start typing. Then I stare a little longer, but when Millie shifts in bed and I look up at her warm, pink cheeks, I let the message fly.
Me: Come have a beer with me.
47
Millie
It’s too hot. My skin’s clammy, a shudder shaking me from head to toe as my eyes flutter open.
For a moment, I don’t remember where I am, the dream still lingering, making it hard to focus on my surroundings.
I’m...wired, wet, so slick between my thighs it’s shameful. My panties are soaked, the orgasm I was about to have still prickling low in my abdomen.
Twisting into a ball and pulling my knees up to my chest, I shut my eyes, chasing the dream. I don’t want to wake up. It’s not over, but the sound of low voices has my eyes snapping open, another flush of heat licking up my spine.
I sit up, finding Creed shirtless on the far end of his couch, tattoos and muscles on display, hair tousled from my fingers earlier. He’s in gray sweatpants, alcohol-free beer in hand, eyes locking onto mine.
But his aren’t the only dark irises on me.
Noah’s here, occupying the other end of the couch, dressed in a black tee and black sweats. He looks... God, he looks just like he did in my dream.
