Page 11 of Obsession on Repeat (Vinyl Hearts #1)

I spun the heavy tempo track, watching as the crowd happily danced along.

It had been two hours since the club opened, and the entire building was packed wall to wall.

The song transitioned into another one, the bass almost rattling the glass around me.

Hearing the door open and shut loudly, I turned, surprised to see Asher holding a bottle of water.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. I figured shutting the door would get your attention." He lifted the bottle. "I thought you might be thirsty."

"Oh, thank you." I accepted the bottle, opening it to take a quick sip. "I thought you’d be gone by now."

Chuckling, he approached the glass and looked down at the crowd. "I’ve got nowhere better to be at the moment. "

"Surely you have some glamorous party or premiere to attend?"

His eyebrows rose. "So, you do know who I am."

"Gina had to tell me. I’m sorry. I hardly have time for entertainment these days."

"That’s a shame, but it’s definitely no reason to apologize."

Aware he was looking at me closely, I shifted my attention to the turntable and turned the knobs to force the beat to flow into another song. "Thank you for the water. You don’t have to bring it all the way up here."

"It’s no problem."

We stood in silence as the music continued to play, the crowd moving as one.

"Have you taken a break?"

"No, I don’t usually—"

"You should take your breaks. Put some tracks on a loop and take a fifteen."

I did as he asked, putting several tracks on a loop before I followed him out the door. We took the back way, walking past the bar, and I shivered at the cool night air that washed over me as we stepped out into the alley.

"Do you need a jacket?"

"I’m okay. It was the change in temperature. It’s hot in there." I smoothed my hands down my tank top and shorts, rubbing the toe of my tennis shoe into the cracked cement .

He paused to rummage through his cargo pants, and I watched him dig out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one into his mouth, tilting the box toward me. "Do you want one?"

"No, thanks. I haven’t smoked in several years."

"I don’t usually smoke, but the urge to buy a pack hit me a couple days ago." He took a drag of his cigarette, quiet as he exhaled and watched the streams of smoke spiral into the air. He leaned against the opposite brick wall. "So, tell me about yourself."

"There’s not much to tell."

"Nonsense, there has to be at least one thing. Your resume said you worked in Australia last. That’s a long way to come for a job. Were you there for a reason?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "I move a lot."

"I don’t blame you. I’ve always been a big fan of change." He inhaled on his cigarette again, exhaling through his nose. "I was born in New Zealand, so I definitely know about taking big risks."

"Was acting what brought you to America?"

"Yes, and work is what brought you here. Appears we have something else in common besides knowing what a loop is."

I chuckled, a little bitter. "I moved to Los Angeles because I met a guy. Lame, right?"

I studied his face carefully. Actors all swam in the same glittery, shallow pool. Odds were, he’d crossed paths with Sullivan at a party, a premiere, or some glossy magazine spread where everyone pretended not to care.

"Actually, I’d call that brave." He flicked his cigarette onto the concrete, the ember flaring out as he faced me fully. "Takes a hell of a lot of guts to change your life for someone."

Something about the way he said it made me pause.

"I need to head back but take your full fifteen. You deserve to take breaks just like the rest of us." He headed inside.

I stayed out a beat longer, letting the cooler air settle the weird tightness in my chest.

By the time I reached the booth, the lights were up, the bar was buzzing, and the low hum of bass was already bleeding through the floor. I slipped on my headphones, hands moving by habit—knobs, sliders, track cues—letting the music drown out everything around me.

Tonight, I was DJ Fetish again. No feelings or questions. There was only the music.

With a sigh, I shut the front door, shrugging off my jacket and dropping it on the couch along with my purse and keys.

I kicked off my shoes, not bothering to see where they ended up.

I made my way through the living room without the assistance of the lights, trying to be quiet, but my attempt failed when I ran into the leg of the sofa, stubbing my toe.

"Shit!" I hopped on one leg, grabbing at my toes. "Damn it."

The hallway light turned on, and I blinked at the sight of Sullivan as he stumbled into the doorway dressed in his boxers. He rubbed his forehead, squinting at me. "Baby? What time is it?"

I lowered my foot back to the floor. "It’s 5:30."

He moved forward to hug me. "I didn’t realize you’d be coming in that late."

"I stayed behind to clean up." I pulled away. "I’m going to take a shower before I come to bed."

"I wish I could join you."

"In the shower?"

He grinned but shook his head. "I meant the bed. Eric called last night. I got the lead role in the new Christopher Nolan film that I auditioned for last week. I know it’s bad timing, but I fly out tomorrow for wardrobe and to meet the other cast members. "

"I’m happy for you, believe me, but that makes me a little sad," I admitted. "We haven’t had any time to spend together lately."

He cradled my hands against his chest. "Come with me. Every moment I don’t have to work, we’ll spend it together."

I pulled my hands free. "You know I can’t do that. I literally started my job tonight."

"You’re right. I’m sorry. I was making a suggestion."

"How long will you be gone?"

"For a couple days." He cleared his throat. "Filming starts next month…"

My mouth dropped open as I stared at him.

"I’ll be gone for about five months."

"You’re kidding."

"I wish I was. I’m sorry to drop all of this on you, but I’ve been working hard to get where I am, this role could change my entire career for me. Tell me you understand."

I did, but in so many ways, I felt betrayed. I had left a good job behind in Australia simply based on my emotions and a promise of something special. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t been sold a lie.

"Go take a shower. I’m going to get dressed, and we’ll talk some more until my ride arrives."

He had been gone a total of sixteen hours, thirty minutes, and some odd seconds. Not that I was counting. I could smell him on the shirt I had borrowed, that faint mix of cologne, skin, and the expensive detergent he used. I lifted it to my nose and inhaled before shoving it into my locker.

I turned toward the mirror to fix my shirt and jumped. Gina was standing behind me, arms crossed, a wicked grin on her face.

"What’s up, buttercup?" She popped her gum with a snap. "Checking if you’re Snuggle fresh? Let me guess." She tilted her head. "Boyfriend’s shirt?"

I hesitated a beat too long.

"Called it."

I rolled my eyes again, but the blush hadn’t gone anywhere. "You’re insufferable."

"I’m observant," she corrected, smirking as she leaned against the locker next to mine. "So, how serious are we talking here? Matching tattoos? Secret wedding in the Maldives?"

I snorted. I grabbed my headphones and started toward the stairs .

She side-stepped to block me. "Oh no, you don’t. You’re in deep, I can smell it, literally."

"It’s new and weird. And a little terrifying."

Gina popped her gum again. "Asher is going to be disappointed he doesn’t have a chance."

I blinked quickly. "What?"

"You heard me, Ms. Fetish."

I scoffed, more reflex than belief. "You’re imagining things."

"Am I?" She leaned in conspiratorially. "You didn’t see the way he was watching you the other night, and let’s not forget the back alley cigarette talk I heard about. That was not ‘boss-employee’ energy."

I opened my mouth, then closed it. "I’m with someone."

"And yet, you’re blushing. Don’t worry. I’m not suggesting anything scandalous. I’m saying keep your eyes open. You never know when things shift." She glanced over her shoulder. "Speak of the devil."

Asher approached us, wearing that effortless kind of confidence, black-on-black, hair slightly tousled like he hadn’t tried but looked unfairly good. His eyes landed on me immediately. "I wanted to check in before the doors opened. Are you good with the set list tonight?"

"Yeah, locked and loaded."

His gaze lingered, not inappropriately, not long enough to call out, but enough. "You’ve got nothing to worry about, last night was amazing. Tonight shouldn’t be any different."

"Yeah," I said, shifting my stance. "I’m trying not to overthink it."

"You shouldn’t. You’re already the best thing about this place." He said it as a fact, the truth as he saw it. Somehow that was worse than flirting.

Gina cleared her throat behind me. "Smooth."

His mouth tugged into a crooked smile. "Honest." He turned to nod at me. "Knock them dead tonight."

With that, he was gone.

"Still think I’m imagining it?"

I didn’t answer her. I headed up to the booth as fast as my feet could carry me.

By the end of my set, the pulse in my veins was louder than the music.

I peeled off my headphones, hands trembling slightly.

The crowd below was a satisfied blur, but my own head felt crowded.

I escaped the booth intent on using the restroom and stopped abruptly.

Asher stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed in wait .

"Is something wrong?”

"I’m leaving for the night. I wanted to say good job."

"Thanks." I forced myself to sound casual. "The energy felt good tonight."

"It wasn’t just the energy." His gaze was steady, direct. "You connect with people. It's rare."

Warmth rose into my cheeks again. I glanced away, desperate to regain control.

He didn’t say anything at first, simply watched me for a second, clearly amused. "Relax. I’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend."

I looked back at him sharply. "I wasn’t worried. Who’s worried?"

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Good, because I know your situation."

"My situation?"

"You’re taken. I’m not here to start anything." His tone was light, but his gaze lingered for a second longer than it should’ve. He stepped away from the wall, casually adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate good taste when I see it."

I blinked. "Are you complimenting my outfit or my life choices?"

"Maybe both. I’ll let you decide." Before I could think of something clever to say back, he was already walking off with a simple, "See you around, DJ Fetish. "

I was staring down the empty hallway when my phone buzzed. Sullivan’s name flashed on the screen, jolting me back into reality. I took a breath, steadying my voice before answering. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he said warmly. The background noise suggested he was somewhere crowded. "Miss me yet?"

I smiled faintly, despite myself. "Maybe a little."

"Only a little? I must be losing my touch."

My eyes flicked involuntarily toward the hallway again. "It’s been a busy night."

"How’d it go?" He sounded genuinely interested, his tone gentle. It twisted the guilt in my chest tighter.

"Everything was great."

He hesitated a beat, voice dipping into something softer. "I wish I was there."

I squeezed my eyes shut at the sincerity of his words, leaning against the wall. "Me too."

"Are you okay? You sound off."

"I’m fine. I’m processing some stuff."

"Stuff." He repeated the word carefully. "Anything I should know about?"

Asher’s words echoed in my mind. "No," I said firmly, pushing that memory down deep. "Nothing important."

Sullivan didn’t respond immediately. For a second, the silence stretched, thick and uneasy. "Okay." His voice was calm but guarded now. "Promise me you’ll talk to me if it becomes something. "

"I will."

"Good. Get some rest. I love you, Rory."

My heart clenched, guilt and longing warring inside me. "Talk to you soon."