Page 82 of Darkest Obsession

“Fine.”

I send Sylvia a text because I’m a way better friend than Mr. We Should Leave It, but she doesn’t reply on the usual Sylvia timeline – which is instantly. Thomas and I sneak back down the hall into my room. We tried to “confess” and we can’t risk anyone else spotting us in the halls.

I’ll just have to tell Sylvia in the morning. When I shut the door behind me, I lock it, just in case anyone else decides it’s a good idea to come in while we’re doing this.

Thomas grins. “Locking the door for us?”

I hate the insinuation. We’re not doing anything. We’re just friends. Locked in a bedroom together. There’s nothing romantic about that. I know romance.

“We have a stalker on the loose,” I remind Thomas. “Duh.”

“Right.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, ignoring my intentional glance towards the cricket bat I conveniently found in the dance studio after practice one day. No one else claimed it and I needed a weapon. Now, we’re inseparable. I just wish it didn’t have someone else’s name on it.

Thomas makes himself way too comfortable sitting on my desk and kicking up his annoyingly large feet with his Doc Martens on. I roll my eyes and sit on my bed, my feet dangling off the edge as I try to come up with a suitable insult for Thomas about his feet.

Finding out our stalker’s identity is slightly more important than insulting Thomas, so I save finding a solid insult for later.

“We need to trap our stalker again.”

“I have a plan for that,” Thomas says. “But you won’t like it.”

He shakes out his mane of light brown hair. I hate that I notice things like how thick his hair is, or how his shampoo smells. I hate that I notice how fast his facial hair grows. He already has a five o’clock shadow and it’s so unfair how his facial hair highlights his chin.

Thomas taps his fingers, coated in chipped black nail polish, on my desk as he scans my books.

“What plan might that be?” I answer him gruffly, snatching the romance novel I borrowed from Kola out of Thomas’ hands. He doesn’t need to know what I’m reading. I stick it in the top drawer of my dresser and return to my bed. Thomas fixes his gaze on me and runs his tongue over his lower lips. Can you just stop being sexy for one fucking second? I can’t stand his ass.

“It’s becoming obvious, isn’t it? This stalker of ours has a thing for me.”

My eyes roll to the back of my head. Of course Thomas Bainbridge thinks everyone on planet earth has a thing for him. It doesn’t help that everyone in our year makes such a big deal about his tattoos, height and muscles.

“Get a grip, Thomas.”

“I’m serious. That’s why they threatened you and it’s possibly why they attacked Sylvia.”

I bite my lip for a second. He might be right. Whoever attacked Sylvia could have easily mistaken her as a threat. She seemed pretty close to Thomas when they got to campus. I even questioned if there were any feelings between them. But seriously? Why would someone want to kill another person over Thomas Bainbridge? He ain’t all that…

“Okay,” I tell him. “How does that help us?”

“Dunno. I just don’t want you getting hurt. Or Syl for that matter.”

His eyes dart to mine and that terrifying flash of possessiveness crosses them. I quickly look away from him. I don’t want Thomas to think he owns me or this blackmailer justifies him acting like a creep. I’m only letting him stay here because we’re sort of friends now and we’re sort of in the same boat. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Why do you care?”

“I’ve got a sister.”

“Congratulations.”

“I miss her,” Thomas says. “She was my best friend. Men ought to protect women.”

I’m about to give him a preliminary lesson in women handling their own shit, when he interrupts my train of thought.

“What about you? Got a brother?”

Lil’ Cee… Yeah. I have a brother. I nod.

“What’s his name?”