Page 25 of Devious Obsession
I grimace. “I’m not.”
“Your sisters are not,” he retorts. “Your sisters are soft. You…”
I’m the softest of them all.
He gets the door unlocked and holds it open, his arm high enough that I can duck under it. “First-floor apartments are dangerous,” he says. “You should secure your windows.”
Yeah, right.
“Did you leave your keys in here?”
“I’m sure I did.” I spent about as long as I could waste this morning searching for them, but that didn’t mean much. I have a habit of misplacing them. “Thanks for the ride.”
He nods, still eyeing me funny, and releases his hold on the door. “Remember to call if you need—”
“I will,” I assure him.
The door shuts between us, and I let out a breath. I lock it again, even though he just proved that’s a useless endeavor to keep him out. Then I get to work turning on all the lights in the apartment. I set the package down on the counter, my bag beside it, and keep moving toward my bedroom. I’m tired enough to go right to bed, anything to do with my dad be damned—and dinner, too.
“Who was that?”
I shriek as Steele comes out of the shadows of my room. He smirks, stepping up and helping me remove my jacket the rest of the way. He pushes it off my shoulders and lets it drop off my arms. It hits the floor with a muted thump.
My heart is going a million times a minute.
And then he’s moving away, flicking on the overhead light. When he closes the door and leans against it, my stomach knots.
“What do you want?”
His eyebrow lifts. “Iwantto know who that was.”
I shrug.
“Aspen.”
“Steele.”
His eyes narrow.
“Why are you in my room?” It occurs to me thatthissort of behavior is what his dad might be interested in. What if Steele has a history of stalking? And that’s why his dad was worried? “Are you stalking me?”
He laughs. “Yeah, Aspen, I’m stalking you. And doing a pretty poor fucking job of it, since you’ve ‘caught’ me twice.” He pushes off the wall and steps into my space, his fingers curling in the front of my t-shirt. “Have you talked to my father?”
My hesitation gives me away.
His hold only tightens. “Who’s the stalker now?”
“I didn’t tell him anything good,” I retort. “I didn’t tell him that you snuck into my room and fucked me against my will—”
“You’re into that, remember?” He runs his nose up the side of my face, into my hair. The action is so sudden, so surprising, that I let it happen. “You have a safe word, little viper.”
“Why do you call me that?”
He chuckles. “Because you’re going to be the death of me.”
My eyes shut of their own accord—until he releases my shirt and grips my chin instead. It’s too similar to my uncle, and I shove against him.
His expression lights up.
