Obsession

by Liz Bower

  “What?”

  “Alex thinks you’re a calming influence on me.”

  “And that’s funny?” he asked, flashing me his cocky grin that I hadn’t seen for a while.

  Great, I’d stroked his ego, which definitely didn’t need it. My face flushed as I remembered the stroke of his tongue against my lips, and I closed my eyes. When Marco squeezed my arm, I opened them again. His face was serious, eyes trained on mine.

  “I want to help, Jo.”

  I nodded because I could use all the help I could get right then. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. But I’ll come clean with Alex soon.”

  His eyebrows rose as he asked, “You’re going to tell him it was all fake?”

  “No, God no. I’ll just tell him we broke up or something.”

  His hand tightened around my arm as his eyebrows drew together. When he didn’t say anything, the silence became awkward. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything bad about you. I’ll even say you broke up with me if you want,” I said with a laugh, trying to lighten the situation. I expected him to laugh, but when he just stared at his fingers wrapped around my arm, I wondered if I’d offended him somehow.

  “Whatever you want, Jo,” he said quietly. “Whatever you want.”

  I swallowed hard, knowing I should bring up our kiss but unsure if this was a good time. “About our kiss …”

  Marco stood and looked down at me. “Don’t worry about it, Jo. I’m going to go for a run.”

  I stared after him as he took the stairs two at a time. Since as long as I could remember, whenever he needed space he would go for a run.

  Did he need space from me?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  He hurried down the stairs; he was going to be late for work. Part of him couldn’t wait to get to work, knowing that he would see her again. The other part of him didn’t want to go at all because he would see her … not quite the girl he remembered. He had been at Danver Solutions for nearly a week before he first saw her. He didn’t know how he could have missed her. But there she was, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, and it was like no time had passed. He wanted to try and talk to her again, but their few conversations had been short, like talking to someone he didn’t know.

  He grabbed a breakfast bar from the kitchen, drawn to the bookshelf as he walked through the living room. He picked up the photo of her, tracing a finger over her face beneath the glass. When he spoke to her, he wanted to bring up their time together, but she looked at him like she didn’t remember him. Could she really forget him that easily?

  Gently placing the frame back on the shelf, he left for the office.

  When he pushed through the reception door, she was already at her desk. He headed for the coffee machine, glancing her way, but she wasn’t paying any attention to him. As he waited for the coffee to be dispensed, he saw Amy strutting towards the coffee machine, and grabbed the plastic cup before the flow of coffee had finished. Hurrying away, he weaved his way through the desks on the other side of the office from Amy until he reached the stairs.

  Upstairs and settled behind his desk, he switched on his computer to check the test reports that had been run overnight. He was enjoying this job and it wasn’t just because she worked there. After some of the shitty jobs he’d had after high school, he’d sort of stumbled into the online world and found he fit in better online than in the real world. It was easy to lose himself in the digital world.

  The morning passed before he even realised and he jogged downstairs for lunch. He knew she was on late lunch as he saw her huddled over her desk. It was quite pathetic how much he knew about her daily routine.

  He left the office and wandered down the street. No destination in mind, he just kept walking through the streets, trying to think of a way to bring up their past, but he didn’t really want to do that in the office surrounded by everyone else. As the street became busier, he turned around and headed back towards the office. He grabbed a sandwich from the shop near the office and when he turned the corner, there she was. His chest ached, wanting to go over and speak to her, but the few conversations they’d had left him frustrated. He ached to touch her again, but couldn’t.

  She turned towards where he was standing, and he ducked behind the building, out of her view. He leaned his head against the scratchy bricks of the wall and tried to draw in a deep breath. His heart was pounding like he was on the pitch and had made a line break, heading for a try. He leaned forward to peek around the corner of the wall, knowing she couldn’t see him from his hiding place. She never did see him anymore. It was like he didn’t exist; she just looked straight through him. And nothing had changed as far as he could see. Not for him, anyway.

  She was anxious, waiting for something, or someone. He could tell by the way she was twining a strand of her long hair around her index and middle finger.

  He remembered everything. The way she would blow her hair out of her eyes, red lips plumping together like when she was about to kiss him.

  The way she would weave her fingers through his, so tightly as though she didn’t want to let him go. Her skin so soft. Hand so small wrapped inside his.

  The way she would brush the hair back from his forehead, then wrap her fingers around his jaw before running her fingertips across his stubble and kissing him.

  She laughed, and the memories of them kissing fled as he was brought back to the present.

  He leaned back against the wall as memories of her laughing with him hit him. A surge of dark emotion ran through his veins as he imagined her with him. Remembered the way his arm wrapped around her waist. He hated the guy. He hated her for letting that guy do the things he used to do. Her laugh deep and throaty. He used to make her laugh like that. He would again, if it was the last thing he did.

  But then he remembered the way the guy had grabbed her hand and as their fingers twisted together, his heart twisted along with them. He stepped around the corner of the building intent on speaking to her but she had disappeared. Again.

  ***

  As he drove home that evening, he remembered all the times he had tried to see her again. But of all the places he’d imagined seeing her, the office never crossed his mind. He let himself inside and slammed the front door behind him, making the letterbox rattle. With a loud sigh, he threw himself across the faded blue couch, rolling to the back of the cushions where they sagged before flipping over onto his back to gaze up at the ceiling. But instead of the cracked, off-white plaster, all he could see was her face. Her long dark hair pulled back to expose her slender, pale neck. Strands of it framed her face, making him want to reach out and stroke his fingers along its silky length.

  Of all the ways he’d imagined the day he saw her again would go, it hadn’t been that way. He had spent years searching the faces of random strangers in the pubs they used to go to. Lost count of the hours he had spent sitting in the woods behind their old school, hoping she might show up.

  She never had.

  And then there she was in the middle of the office.

  He let his eyes close and shook his head, but behind his eyelids, all he could see were her beautiful blue eyes. They were like looking at a clear winter’s day sky that gave a little hope after a bitter winter. With a sigh, he opened his eyes. So why wasn’t he happy?

  After all these years she was back in his life. It was what he had dreamed of but tried not to hope for because he never thought it would come true. But he had been doing okay. He huffed out a breath at that thought. Right, if you consider barely being able to go a month without thinking about her is okay.

  “Hey, Buddy,” he said as the black cat jumped onto his chest. She started to rub herself against the stubble on his chin, and he wondered if it felt like her fur did to him. He stroked a hand down her back and let his mind wander back to her.

  There was something different about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. Obviously she looked older; it had been almost ten years since they’d seen each other, after all. Ten ye
ars since she took the already crushed pieces of his heart and scattered them in the wind, then walked away without a second glance. God, he hated her for that. He shook his head at that thought because he didn’t know how to hate her. He still loved her. Hated what she did though, that she could just leave that easily.

  He pushed himself up onto his elbows and swung his feet off the couch as Buddy glared at him. His gaze wandered to the bookshelf and he made his way over to it.

  The photo of him with his family felt like another lifetime ago. He picked up the one next to it and stared at her smiling face, hair blown across her cheek, eyes crinkled up at the sides with her smile. She’d been so happy back then. Happy with him. What had changed? As question after question kept going through his mind, he grabbed one of the photo albums off the shelf. He sat back on the edge of the couch and propped the album open on the glass-topped coffee table. She was slimmer than in the photos he flipped through but still as beautiful as ever.

  As the front door creaked open, he flipped the album shut and shoved it under the couch, knowing it would be his brother. His family stopped talking about her years before. They would look at each other as if to say ‘Here we go again’ when he talked about her. Eventually he just stopped talking about her. But he could never bring himself to stop thinking about her.

  “You ready to go?”

  He shoved off the couch and grabbed his kitbag, hefting it over his shoulder. “Yeah.” He followed Sam out of the house and locked up behind him.

  It was only a five-minute drive to the rugby club, and once Sam dropped him off he headed straight for the changing rooms. The sight of her had his head all over the place, but a match would sort that out.

  He followed his teammates out onto the pitch. It was only a friendly match but against a rival local team, so losing wasn’t an option.

  After a couple of scrums, he was completely in the game; nothing else mattered except winning. Macca tossed the ball to him, and he was off. Fingers clutched at his shirt but he kept running. He could see the line and curled his arm around the ball to cradle it against his chest. He threw himself forward, sliding across the damp grass and mud. He passed the line and smiled, and then his teammates landed on him. They pulled him up and clapped him on the back, and he couldn’t help it. He scanned the crowd to find Sam; his brother never missed a game. But he was standing there cheering, alone. She had always watched him play and it was like a punch to his chest. It wasn’t the same as it used to be.

  He didn’t hang around in the changing rooms, just grabbed his stuff and found Sam. “Can you drop me at home?”

  “You not going to the pub?”

  “No.”

  Sam’s forehead furrowed at the terse response, but thankfully he didn’t ask any more questions.

  He turned and walked towards Sam’s battered Fiesta in silence, assuming his brother would follow. Neither of them spoke until Sam pulled up outside his house.

  “Everything okay? You always go to the pub after a game.”

  He stared straight ahead out of the windshield, but he could feel the weight of Sam’s gaze. “It’s been a long week so far, that’s all.”

  He pushed open the passenger door and then glanced back over his shoulder at Sam. His brother looked worried, and he had already caused him more worry than an older brother ever should. “I’ll see you on Sunday for lunch, okay?”

  Sam nodded and gave him an almost smile. He climbed out of the car, quietly closing the door behind him, and grabbed his kitbag out of the back.

  Once inside, he dumped his kitbag by the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen, yanking open the freezer door and pulling out a bottle of vodka. It seemed like a good way to stop the thoughts. Unable to see a glass as he glanced around the kitchen, he unscrewed the top and took a swig straight from the bottle.

  Sprawled out on the couch, bottle in hand, he flicked on the TV to the sports channel. Taking another swig of vodka, the heat worked its way down his throat, distracting him from his thoughts.

  Yeah, oblivion was a much better idea than obsessing over her for the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I paced outside the office entrance waiting for Marco to show up. He texted for me to meet him outside, and I was worried something might be wrong.

  The gentle breeze picked up, blowing the first leaves of autumn from the trees and my fringe across my face. I dragged the stray strands from my mouth and twined them between my fingers.

  My imagination got carried away picturing Gabi hurt somewhere. Or what if it was my mum or dad who had been hurt? Because why else would Marco need to see me at lunchtime? Something bad must have happened.

  I paced back up the pavement towards the office, and there he was, cocky grin in place. I dropped the length of hair along with my shoulders. He wouldn’t be smiling if something bad had happened.

  His hair lifted with the breeze, and I smiled back at him, giddy with relief. When Marco reached me, he leaned in to press his lips against my cheek.

  That was new. I threw him a puzzled look. “Is everything okay?”

  He leaned back to stare into my eyes for a moment before nodding. “Everything’s great now. I thought we could go for lunch.”

  “Okay,” I dragged the word out as I narrowed my eyes at him. We’d never been to lunch. I didn’t think he even knew where I worked. His smile dropped and he leaned back in. My breath hitched at the idea of him kissing me there, outside my office where anyone could see us.

  “Just keeping up the fake boyfriend bit. I take my role very seriously. In fact, I can’t believe you forgot our fake six-month anniversary.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Then my laugh died as I realised that this was all an act. Of course it is.

  “I’m sure you can make it up to me later though,” he said with a wink.

  My smile faded as images of us on the sofa later, kissing … and more, flickered through my mind. And then he was laughing again.

  “Come on, I was joking,” he said, grabbing hold of my hand. “I brought us a picnic.”

  Only then did I notice the rucksack in his hand as he lifted it and gave it a shake.

  “I thought we could sit by the river, seeing as it’s such a nice day.”

  He pulled me towards the path and I stumbled after him. My real boyfriends had never met me for lunch, let alone planned a picnic by the river. “That sounds lovely,” I said when my brain finally engaged. But if we’re keeping up the fake boyfriend bit, why are we going to the river where no one from work can see us?

  I glanced around, but there were only a few solitary people rushing along the path behind and paying no attention to us. We made our way down the gentle slope of the riverbank. Marco opened the rucksack and pulled out a blue and green checked blanket that he spread open on the grass. As I took a seat, I glanced back up the riverbank but the path was hidden from view. It was like we were the only two people there.

  Marco pulled out two paper bags with the logo of the sandwich shop next to my office and handed me one. He unpacked two bottles of soda and propped them up on the blanket before he stretched out his legs to lie down, propping his head up on one elbow. This didn’t feel so fake to me anymore. And as my stomach tied itself up at that thought, my hunger fled.

  Instead I picked up one of the sodas and toyed with the lid just to give my hands something to do. Something other than reaching out to Marco. Something to stop from trailing my fingers across the tanned skin of his muscled forearm, or the sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans where his T-shirt had pulled up over his flat stomach, showing off a fine trail of dark hairs that disappeared beneath the hem of his jeans.

  “So, do you know when our next fake outing will be yet?”

  I quickly averted my gaze and picked at the turkey hanging out of the bread roll as I shook my head. “Not yet. If you don’t want to go, it’s fine. I can make up some excuse to Alex or … maybe I should just get it over with and tell him we’re not toge
ther anymore.”

  Marco didn’t say anything for a long time, and I couldn’t look at him. I stuffed the rest of the sandwich back into the bag and lay down on my back to watch the clouds drift by instead.

  “I don’t mind. Free food and drink. Why would I say no to that?”

  I rolled my head to the side so I could see him, but he was staring out across the river. Ridiculously, his words disappointed me. Free food and drink. Of course, why else would he be doing it? None of this was real. The picnic, the dinners, all of it was just a lie. My eyes stung and I turned my head to gaze back at the sky.

  Marco lay down on his back next to me and pointed to a cloud over to the right.

  “Snake.”

  I smiled and squinted at the cloud. “Crocodile?”

  He laughed.

  “Do you remember when we used to do this with Gabi? We’d spend hours in the park near your parents’ house.” That was the first time I’d met Marco. I’d been hanging out with Gabi at her house when Marco had come home and tagged along with us to the park. He was thirteen, and I remember being impressed that he would want to hang out with us. I was easily impressed back then. He had pushed us on the roundabout until Gabi and I were dizzy. That was the first time I’d wished I had a cool older brother.

  “God, that seems like a lifetime ago.”

  At the tone of his voice, I glanced over at him. He sounded sad, yet that memory made me happy.

  “Life seemed so much easier back then.”

  “It’s not so bad now, is it?” I asked. His life didn’t seem so bad, anyway, whereas mine had seemed to have gone a little off track.

  “Well, I never thought I’d be crashing on Gabi’s sofa after catching my girlfriend cheating on me. Or that I’d be your … fake boyfriend.”

  His words made my heart constrict because it was so easy to think that Marco was always happy. That grin was never far away, and he never seemed to worry about anything. His hand was just inches away from mine on the blanket. I lifted my pinkie and rubbed it across the back of his hand, wanting to comfort him but not sure how to. “You’ll find your own place soon though.”