Page 56 of Darkest Obsession

“Is it a guy?” I ask her.

Thomas scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sylvia doesn’t date. She’s an entrepreneur.”

He sounds like he learned how to pronounce the word ‘entrepreneur’ a week ago from a very fancy walrus. I wrinkle my nose, but keep looking at Sylvia. Thomas might be her friend, but he’s naive if he thinks this isn’t about a guy.

“Syl?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and making that gorgeous head of light brown hair cascade down his neck. I wish everything he did wasn’t so fucking distracting.

“Please don’t make me screw this up,” she whispers.

“You won’t screw up,” I tell her softly. “We’re your friends. We can keep this a secret. Right Thomas?”

Thomas nods and Sylvia tells us her big secret.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Thomas

I leave Clover’s bedroom just before she wakes up. It takes everything not to kiss her and even more not to walk three doors down to Sylvia’s room and tell her off. She has a boyfriend. Not just any boyfriend, a secret boyfriend and she doesn’t want us to know who he is, but she has given us “clues”.

It’s hardly a confession, but it’s better than nothing and at least it distracted her from what she saw. I wanted something to happen between us so badly. Clover isn’t so easy to wear down. She’s cautious with me. She wasn’t cautious with Kit or Jude. Why not? I wonder if either of them know Sylvia’s secret.’

Women are better secret-keepers than men. Maybe her new beau talked to someone. Bloody hell, I don’t particularly care, but Amina would kill me if I let anything happen to her sister. I owe her and I owe Crispin too much to let some bloke mess with Sylvia’s head and keep her a secret on the side.

“I can’t help if you find out,” Sylvia said last night. “But I can’t tell you myself.”

At least it takes the eye off me and Clover. I re-enter my bedroom through the window to find Kit sleeping in my bed. Naked. With whipped cream on his bare chest. What the fuck did he get into last night? As I thud onto the ground, he makes a groggy groan and awakens by rolling over, getting the whipped cream on my bloody sheets.

“You’re washing those.”

“Morning, Tommo.”

“Get off my bed.”

“Where have you been?”

“Nowhere.”

I haven’t told him about Clover and I don’t feel the need to report to Kit about girls. He’s bloody obsessed with sex now and he would only make things weird. I search through my closet for a fresh uniform. I’m starving.

“I’ll wash your sheets later,” Kit yawns. “Grab my sweater?”

“Get it yourself.”

The lazy arsehole rolls himself out of bed and does an incredibly weak job of wiping away the whipped cream with his t-shirt. I strip my bed and drop the bedding onto his pile of laundry. I expect fresh sheets by the end of practice.

“Breakfast?” Kit grumbles after picking up a worn uniform from his bedroom floor and putting it back on.

“Cheers.”

I don’t have time to brush my hair, so I fluff it out a bit and crack my back. I didn’t really want to sleep on the floor. I wanted her. Her bed. Her arms. I hate this feeling.

“I need to fuck with Clover today,” Kit says on his way to breakfast. Seriously? I thought he was at least over her. She’d better be over him.

“Why?”

“Why not? I lost her knickers and I need payback. She humiliated me.”

“How?”