Page 59 of Secret Obsession
Miles doesn’t know. I don’t either.
And I never saw my room.
“I need to call Violet,” I mumble. I pat myself down for my phone. “I’ll sleep on her couch.”
“No, you won’t.”
My gaze lifts. “What?”
“You’ll stay with me.” He glances at me, his jaw tight. “Don’t fight me on this.”
I sag back into the seat. Iwantto fight him, but I don’t have any more energy left. Just a hum of something numb running under my skin.
The scary part is—I don’t think I quite mind the numbness.
18
MILES
Her room was the target of the burglar’s ire—and I’m glad she didn’t go into it.
The police agreed with me that it was more concerning than the main space, and they took photos. Dusted for fingerprints, collected whatever evidence they thought necessary. But there wasn’t much that they could do, otherwise. They’d check with neighbors, see if anyone has doorbell cameras.
They asked me about our matching bruises—the circle of purple and blue on the side of Willow’s face, a crescent shape that rings the outside of her eye and down to her cheekbone, and my double black eyes. At least they didn’t swell.
When I sheepishly explained about Willow’s fight, and that I was the goalie for the Crown Point Hawks, they backed off. It’s surprising how fast their attitudes shifted, actually, once they realized who they were dealing with.
One of them even congratulated me on our last home game.
I took photos of my own, just in case, and I packed clothes into a bag for her, plus her backpack and books. Everything I thought she’d need for school. She sure as fuck isn’t going back there until they catch whoever did it.
I also told them that Willow was my girlfriend. In the moment, it just came out. Friends seemed weak, and the way one of the officers kept glancing over at Willow… It set my teeth on edge. But now that I think about it, the more I think this could work in my favor.
They’re going to want to talk to Willow again, and she won’t be able to backtrack about our relationship. If she does, they’ll only look into it harder.
I glance over at her, but she’s closed her eyes. We’re on our way to my house from the urgent care, where they flushed out the deep wound in the bottom of her foot. There weren’t any more pieces of glass in it, and the doc eyed the shard that Willow apparently slipped into her pocket to take with her. They wouldn’t close the puncture, something about it needing to drain. They gave her something for the pain and a prescription that she immediately tucked into her purse without reading.
Tomorrow, I decide. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her the news: she’s my girlfriend. And the whole school will know by the end of the day. But this doesn’t mean I’m not the worst sort of asshole.
It’s another way to glue her to me. Another rope that cinches tighter around her.
We park, and she steps out gingerly onto the sidewalk. I grab her bags from the trunk and sling it over my shoulder. Part of me wants to play the knight in shining armor and scoop her off her feet. But maybe she’s better off yearning for my help.
I can’t justgiveit to her.
She’s far too stubborn for that.
And true to expectation, she limps in behind me without a word.
Knox is sprawled on the couch. At our entrance, his eyebrow raises—and then the corner of his lip pulls up.
“Hey, baby,” Knox calls to her. “Back so soon?”
I glare at him. “Don’t call her that.”
“Sure, sure,” he agrees. “I could always go with our other pet name, but she liked to save that for the bed—”
“Shut up,” Willow snaps. She rounds on me. “Are you really going to try and keep me here?”
