Page 3 of Carnal Games

For hell’s sake, I don’t even know the man’s actual name or what he does. He isn’t a nine-to-five finance-job kind of guy. He walks with too much authority and confidence to be working under someone.

Nah… Mr. Severe runs his own company, issuing stern orders at his employees, and has assistants—yes, plural—at his beck and call. I picture him sitting behind a custom desk, made of imported wood, in a floor-to-ceiling glass office with a majestic view in a sky-high building.

Although, he must’ve been in the army judging from the familiarity with which he instructs and helps the cadets daily; in the way the group looks up at him with awe and respect.

Actually, it is better that I never learn his name. Because this foreign urge that’s been birthed inside me ever since I stumbled on him is scary to the point that I know I’ll cross lines that I shouldn’t. Commit crimes that’ll send me into a psych ward.

I’m already breaking the rules of a normal and sane person by coming here every day.

If this is how little control I havewithoutknowing who he is, I can’t imagine the reckless and obsessed girl I’ll become if Iknewhis identity.

It’ll be a slippery slope.

I’ll have to constantly fight the compulsion to check on him, hear his voice, learn his habits and everything about him. What he eats, how he sleeps, if he has pets, and what’s his type. The most lethal—insert myself into his life.

Only to be disheartened when I find out that he has a loving girlfriend.

Nothing’s worse than unrequited love.

Or he could be a complete manwhore.

Both possibilities crush my already too-attached-and-fragile heart.

Sighing, I worry my lower lip, my mood saddening at the speed of melting ice in a hot desert. Pushing aside the random book I brought with me to pretend I wasn’t a total creep, I gaze at my obsession talking to one of the cadets.

Mr. Severe is the tallest man out of the group, which makes it easier for me to read his expression. Despite no shift in his facial muscles, there’s no mistaking he’s carefully listening to the young man talk.

I would give anything in the world to trade places with the guy, just to feel an ounce of my scary reaper’s attentiveness. But it’s nothing more than a phantom wish.

What is it about him that I can’t get him out of my mind?

It’s not just his looks.

It’s something else I can’t pinpoint yet.

I’m drawn to him in aching degrees.

I’m a person who loves to solve mysteries. Fate decided to play a cruel joke and create a perfect irony by landing the biggest mystery ofmyintense feelings for him that are fast becoming complicated by the second. I don’t have an explanation for them.

So, before they become even more tangled with the final destination of heartbreak, I need to distance myself.

Meaning no more waiting for the clock to strike a quarter to six and running to the park.

No more replaying every second while lying alone in my bed.

The toughest of all… forgettinghe exists.

I’m so lost, staring unfocused at a stray leaf, that when I look up, Mr. Severe is long gone. The spot where he parked his SUV is now empty.

Just like the hollowness inside my chest.

Shoving my book into my tote bag, I rise and dust off my jeans and exit the park, which is still buzzing with late evening activities. Tonight calls for a binge night ofThe Big Bang Theory. On my way home, I decide to make a pit stop at the local shop to buy my favorite snacks. Lays potato chips in every flavor, two Nestle Milkybars, and a bottle of Coke.

I select a few more items. By the time I’m walking toward the cashier, my hands are full and I’m hardly able to see two feet in front of me.

I’m almost to the checkout counter when I run smack into a wall.

With a squeal, I barely save myself from an embarrassing fall while all my things fly around me like confetti before landing on the ground.