Page 12 of To Obsess

I never planned for this to go this far. I just wanted her to know she is incredibly special and deserves to have the entire world handed to her on a silver platter. I didn’t intend to overstep and invade her space tonight, but I couldn’t see any other way around it. Waiting until morning wasn’t an option. No way in fuck was I going to break the tradition.

So, what’s done is done, and now I’ll have to figure out a way to deal with the consequences. Raking my hands through my hair for the thousandth time this hour, I stare out the window toward her house. I’m nowhere close enough to be able to see it from here, but it’s comforting to look out over the town in her general direction at least.

Another night of less than stellar sleep has dark circles forming beneath my eyes. Add the five o’clock shadow that I couldn’t be bothered to shave today, and I’m looking worse for wear. Even the steaming cup of coffee isn’t enough to perk me up this morning.

A stack of folders is piled on my desk by the time I clock in to work, making my already irritable mood even worse. I can handle the normal tasks of the office, but paperwork drives me insane. Typically, the office secretary handles all of that, while I work on tasks specifically assigned to me by the lawyers here. Since she’s out on maternity leave, I’ve been having to handle my normal tasks plus hers, which includes screening phone calls.

Ten long hours later, I’m finally free from the clutches of the office for the weekend. I head for the bookstore to pick up a new book to start. Seeing Violet is a just a bonus today.

“Did you find everything you need?” she asks as I place the books on the counter.

“I did. Thank you,” I say back, refusing to meet her eyes. “Big plans for the weekend?” The register beeps as each one is scanned. I despise small talk but hearing her voice is worth the uncomfortable feeling in my chest.

She shrugs, putting the books into a plastic bag. “Not really. I’m going out with a friend tonight, then seeing my parents tomorrow afternoon,” she answers. “Your total is $42.39 today.”

I hand her my debit card and take the bag from her outstretched hand without responding. She folds the receipt over my card before handing it back to me with a smile reserved for customers. “I hope your weekend is wonderful. Thank you,” I say, turning to leave before she has a chance to respond.

What she doesn’t know is I already knew about her plans for the weekend. And the barkeep she’s going out with is the furthest thing from a ‘friend’.

Chapter 13

Violet

“I’ll see you Monday, Betty,” I say to my boss as I slip my timecard into the machine to clock out for the evening. The Yates have kept most of the original parts of the building, including one cash register, the desk, and the time clock. It’s one of the things I love most about this place, even if it is a burden from time to time.

“Have a wonderful weekend, darling. I can’t wait to hear all about this date with Mr. Handsome on Monday evening,” she says with a wink.

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about it,” I laugh despite the heat rising in my cheeks, turning the brass knob on the back door. With a wave, I close the door and slip my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. For the last week of March, it’s an especially chilly afternoon, even more so with the sprinkle of rain that started half an hour ago.

Driving through town, I marvel at how bright the world seems today, even with the drizzle. The foliage has exploded into shades of emerald and jade over the last week, bringing life back into this dying town. At this rate, it won’t be long before flowers are blooming again.

After a scorching hot shower that would rival the temps in Hell itself, I moisturize from neck to toes with a lovely jasmine scented lotion I picked up from the farmers’ market last fall. Normally, I wouldn’t go through so much trouble, but I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.

After months of back and forth, I finally bit the bullet and agreed to see Gunnar tonight. We’d agreed to dinner and drinks, no further expectations, though I think we’re both open to more if the night goes well.

With my hair curled into loose waves, I finish my makeup with an extra swipe of mascara for the added drama. I’ve never been big into dressing up or makeup, but I’ve been trying a little harder lately, and this date seemed like the perfect excuse to put my skills to the test.

Leaning back from the counter, I survey my work, scrutinizing every detail. “Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get,” I huff to myself, wishing I had spent more time learning how to make myself look halfway presentable.

After choosing a pair of dark-washed jeans, black tennis shoes, and a dark gray hoodie, I stop in front of the full-length mirror leaning in the corner of my bedroom, turning side to side to survey every inch of the outfit. Satisfied, I switch off the light and take the stairs down to the living room.

I turn off all the lights except a small lamp on the table beside the couch before leaving the house to meet Gunnar for our date. At the last second, I fling the door back open, flip the switch for the porchlight, look up to make sure it’s on, and close the door for the second time before sliding the key home to lock it.

In no time, I’m pulling up to the restaurant, butterflies out in full force. I’ve known Gunnar for a few years now, but we’ve never been more than casual acquaintances. I go to the bar with Abby every few weeks to let loose and have a good time, but before we started talking, he never seemed even mildly interested in anything further.

With six minutes to spare, a motorcycle pulls up beside my car, exhaust rumbling loudly. When the guy shuts the bike off and pulls off his helmet, I’m surprised to see my date smiling at me. I had no idea he rode a motorcycle. Tonight just got a little more interesting.

I slip from my car with a smile and admire the bike and the man standing next to it. “Glad you could make it,” he says, flashing me another pearly white grin. “Ready?” He extends an elbow to me, which I gladly slide my arm through, resting my hand on his forearm.

“Absolutely,” I say, matching my stride with his. Once inside, he steps behind my chair, pushing it back in once I sit down. With that one simple gesture, my insides melt entirely. Out of the handful of men I’ve been out on dates with since the breakup with my college boyfriend, very few have been enough of a gentleman for those small gestures. Well, Landon was, but I can’t think about that now.

Two hours fly by before I realize it. We eat plates of steak and seafood, talk about our childhoods—minus the trauma, of course—and discuss our likes and dislikes. The entire night is beyond perfect. When the server comes back a third time to ask if we need anything, I take the hint to wrap up our night, even if I’m not ready for it to end just yet.

Gunnar pays for dinner, including a hefty tip for our not-so-patient server, before walking me back out to the parking lot. The air has turned crisp while we were inside, sending goosebumps scattering over my arms and turning my breath into visible clouds, but none of that seems to matter as I lean against my car, focus fully on Gunnar.

He leans in for a quick hug, squeezing just tight enough to ignite the butterflies again. Without a second of thought, I blurt, “Would you wanna come back to my place?” Instantly, I feel the heat flood my face as it turns red. Never in my life have I invited a man back to my house after a first date.

“I would love to,” he says with the same lack of hesitation. “Lead the way.” He slips the helmet back on, covering his gorgeous face and the smirk now tilting the corner of his lips.