Page 25 of Secret Obsession
9
MILES
“It’s done.” The girl drops into the seat next to me. She sets the envelope on the table in front of me. “I’m not sure why—”
“Please shut up,” I mutter, sliding her the cash. I check the contents of the envelope, then tuck it into my bag at my feet. “That seat’s taken.”
She looks around the room, no doubt confused—there’s a whole bunch of empty seats around us. “It is?”
“Yep. Move.”
She pockets the cash and rises slowly, her puffy lips turning down into a frown. Or a pout. I can’t fucking tell—and I don’t want to either. Something in me has fundamentally shifted. I used to be happy. At the very least, happy adjacent. But now all I feel is this pressing darkness that drives me toward my prey.
Willow strides into the library and stops short. She finds me automatically, and I smirk at her. I lift my hand, showing her the keys that dangle from my fingers. After our little rooftop conversation, I went to class. Minded my business. But I’m sure Willow tried other alternatives to get back into her apartment.
Too bad her landlord’s number was temporarily blocked from her phone.
And so was Violet’s.
So with no one to turn to, she was left to hunt me down.
And hunt me, she has.
I followed the blue dot on the map as she crisscrossed all over campus, no doubt enduring whatever torture the dance team had planned for her. It isn’t often that girls are kicked off the team for misconduct, but somehow, I convinced Amanda to consider her breakup with Knox as such.
And if Amanda wanted to spin it a certain way, I wasn’t going to stop her. Girl’s crazy.
Neither was Knox, who’s now free game. He’s basically considering this whole thing advertising. Just what the puck bunnies want, and Amanda’s the head bunny. Even graduated, she still hangs around like a thundercloud. Assisting with the dance team and whatever other jobs she’d picked up to stay in Crown Point. Rumor has it, it’s either this or go home to the backwaters of Ohio or Indiana. Wherever the fuck she’s from.
Willow walks toward me, her lips pressed in a thin line. She eyes the girl who just left my table, then refocuses on me. She stops on the other side of the table and holds her hand out.
It’s remarkable, her just being in my vicinity is drawing stares.
I sit up straighter, my eyebrow raising. “Can I help you?”
“My keys, asshole,” she demands through her teeth.
“Oh, these?” I hold them up again, then close my fingers around the cool metal. “Sit. Pull out a book.”
“You’re trying to control my study habits?” Her tone is… disbelieving.
I drop the keys back in my bag, sighing. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”
“And what have you learned?”
My jaw tics. “That you’re stubborn.”
She crosses her arms. All it does is press her breasts together and up, and I find my gaze dipping to that sweet swell before I can stop myself. She’s got a great body—always has.
“Let’s trade,” I say suddenly. “I’ll give you your keys…”
“For what?”
“For your schedule.” I’d have found it out either way, but there’s something refreshing about forcingherto give it to me.
She drops her arms and grips the back of the chair in front of her. “You want my class sched—”
“No, no.” I lean forward, keeping my attention locked on her face. Not on her breasts, or the way she’s white-knuckling the chair, or her heaving breath. “I want your whole schedule. Where you plan to be, every second of every day.”
