Page 142 of Obey

Trey coughs into his fist as Adrian’s smile deepens like I’ve amused him rather than rejected him.

“Still saying no on principle, I see.”

“No. I’m saying no because I don’t want anything from you.” I turn back to the sales associate. “Refund it, or you can explain to your manager why a customer left six grand on the counter.”

The associate freezes, a deer-in-headlights, receipt still in hand. Adrian’s pale eyes flick up, catch mine, and don’t look away. I wonder if he’s more amused by my refusal or the scene it’s about to make.

Trey steps closer to my side, and Adrian’s eyes track the movement immediately. “You must be Trey.”

Trey’s expression goes flat. “How the fuck do you know my name?”

“Sloane mentioned you.”

“No,” I say. “I didn’t.”

“No. I suppose you haven’t.” Adrian’s smile remains perfectly intact as he holds his hands up in surrender. “Relax. You’re dating Nathaniel Blackwell. Anyone doing business with SOLAÉ would be negligent not to know who matters to you.”

The damn associate finally completes Adrian's refund, and I hand her Nate's card to pay for the shoes myself, determined to ignore him.

Adrian's attempts to provoke me are nothing new. What unsettles me is how he always seems to know exactly where to find me.

Once the woman finishes the new transaction, Trey and I scoop the bags off the counter, and I turn on my heel, determined to make a clean escape, but Adrian has a different idea.

“You know, I don’t think you hate me nearly as much as you’d like to, Miss Harper.” Adrian says, following us out of the store and straight into the paparazzi. I walk quickly, looking for another store to duck into.

“Mr. Cross, it’s funny that you think I spend any amount of time thinking about you at all.”

“Charming,” he says, the word coming out like the blade of a letter opener. “No wonder you’ve got all three of them so thoroughly twisted.”

Trey, having had enough, whirls on him and steps in between us. “Looka here, you about two seconds away from catching hands that cost more than your little Ivy League education.”

Adrian, to his credit, has the sense not to step closer. His lips curl, but it’s not a smile. Not really. “Understood. I only wanted a moment of her time."

“You already had one,” I snap. “And my answer hasn't changed.”

I spot a boutique on the corner and head for the entrance, hoping Adrian will finally take the hint. Instead, he reaches the door first and holds it open, while the paparazzi continue snapping pictures.

Adrian .

Oh, this motherfucker.

I consider turning around, but the cameras are practically in our faces. The last thing I need is a headline suggesting Adrian Cross and I are having some romantic little rendezvous.

I grab Trey's arm and march inside, refusing to thank Adrian as he follows us.

“You know what I find interesting, Miss Harper?” Adrian asks, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “How quickly you've learned to speak for Nathaniel. I wonder if he's taught you what happens when you start speaking against him.”

“What I find interesting is that I've told you to leave me alone at least six times, and somehow you're still fucking here.”

I roll my eyes and turn toward the lingerie racks, slipping my phone from my bag while Adrian continues following us. If this man thinks I'm spending another minute entertaining his bullshit without backup, he's lost his damn mind.

I open our group chat and type beneath the cover of a display.

Adrian Cross is following Trey and me around Union Square.

We're inside a boutique. Help please. He's freaking me out.

The message shows as read almost immediately.