Page 13 of Obsession on Repeat (Vinyl Hearts #1)

The moment Sullivan stepped into the club, the air changed.

He was jet-lagged, unshaven, and clearly running on a mixture of coffee and sheer determination.

His gaze immediately found Asher across the room, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop what was coming.

He crossed the room, tension radiating off him in waves.

Asher turned around, catching sight of Sullivan approaching, and his expression tightened.

"I think we need to talk."

"Alright. Let’s talk."

"You need to stay away from Rory. Whatever game you’re playing, I’m telling you, it stops now."

Asher raised an eyebrow. "There’s no game. Rory’s a grown woman. She can choose who she talks to. "

"Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know all about your track record. You see an opening, and you’re taking advantage of it. I see this for what it is."

"You don’t. If you did, you’d realize your issues with Rory have nothing to do with me."

"My issues with Rory," Sullivan stepped forward, voice dangerous, "are none of your business."

"They became my business when I found her alone and hurt by the mess your world caused. If you think confronting me solves anything, you’re mistaken."

"You need to back off. You’re making it worse."

"And you leaving her alone for weeks at a time makes it better?" Asher shook his head. "Look, I get why you’re angry, but your real problem isn’t with me, it’s with yourself. You know you’re failing her, and you don’t know how to fix it."

Sullivan’s fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight, eyes blazing. For a moment, I thought he might actually swing. He exhaled sharply instead, visibly pulling back. "You don’t know anything about me."

"I know enough. Like you said, I know your track record," Asher threw the words back in his face. "I know she deserves more than you giving ultimatums because you’re insecure."

"I won’t tell you again. Stay away from Rory." He turned sharply, storming past me without another word .

I tried to meet his eyes, to reach for him, but he was already gone. I spun around, my heart hammering. "What was that?" My voice shook slightly, a mix of anger and fear. "Why did you provoke him?"

"I didn’t provoke him. He came looking for a fight, and I refused to lie."

"You told him he was failing me! That wasn’t your place!"

"Maybe it wasn’t, but it wasn’t wrong either."

I stepped toward him, voice lowered but fierce. "My relationship isn’t something for you to dissect or analyze. I trusted you. I needed someone to talk to, not because I wanted this mess."

"And you think I want it?" He stared down at me, the cool confidence finally cracking slightly.

"You should’ve stayed out of it," I whispered, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "We were finally figuring things out. You’ve made it worse."

Asher leaned against the bar with a sigh, dropping his head back, eyes closed briefly before looking at me again. "I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I meant every word I said. He’s insecure, and it’s damaging you both. He’s going to keep hurting you, Rory."

"That’s not your choice to make!"

"You’re right, I didn’t. But if it was me, Rory—"

"Don’t." My voice cracked. "Don’t finish that sentence. "

He pushed away from the bar, brushing gently past me toward the exit. "I’m sorry I made things harder for you. That wasn’t what I wanted."

"Then what did you want?"

He paused at the doorway, shoulders tight. Without turning around, he answered quietly. "For you to know that you deserve more." He disappeared through the door, leaving me standing alone—confused, aching, and more torn than ever.

I found Sullivan outside, leaning against the railing at the club’s back entrance. His back was tense, his head bowed as if trying to calm himself.

"Sully?"

"Did he send you out here?"

"No," I said sharply, anger flickering again. "I came because we need to talk."

He exhaled heavily, gripping the railing. "So, let’s talk."

"Why did you come here? You flew halfway around the world to confront him. Why?"

"Because I was afraid of losing you. Because every time we talk, I can feel you slipping further away. When I found out you confided in him, it made me realize how close I was to losing everything."

"You don’t get it. I didn’t choose him over you. I needed someone who understood, and he was there."

"Why didn’t you pick up the phone and talk to me? "

"Because I’m afraid!" My voice rose, cracking painfully. "Because every time we talk, we fight. I’m drowning, and you keep asking me for more! You show up here and start some macho confrontation, claiming Asher’s the problem, when the real problem is us."

He stared at me, breathing heavily, his expression breaking slowly. "So that’s it?" He studied me, his expression unreadable. "It’s us?"

"I don’t know, but it’s not him. Whatever issues we have aren’t because of him."

"Tell me how to fix it, because I don’t know how."

"Stop making everything a test. Stop treating me like something you might lose instead of someone you have."

Sullivan froze, something shifting in his eyes. He reached out slowly, carefully touching my cheek, thumb brushing the tears that spilled over. "I’m terrified of losing you."

"I’m terrified too," I admitted, leaning into his hand. "But if we keep acting this way, we’ll lose each other anyway."

He stepped closer, his forehead touching mine gently. "I came here to fight for us, not against you."

"Trust me enough to let me breathe. I need you, not your jealousy, not your fear. You."

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep, shaky breath. "Okay. No more ultimatums, no more confrontations. Whatever happens, we face it together. "

I nodded, finally relaxing into him, feeling him breathe deeply, his body softening as the tension slowly faded between us.

Later that night, after he had fallen asleep, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts refused to settle, replaying the conversations from earlier. Sullivan’s hurt, Asher’s honesty. Everything was blurred, knotted, impossible to untangle.

I rolled quietly out of bed, slipping into the living room. The city lights outside our window glowed softly, distant and indifferent. I sank onto the couch, pulling a blanket tightly around myself as though it might keep my conflicted feelings at bay.

His words kept echoing in my head, unsettling and too honest. You deserve more.

The problem was, I didn’t know what ‘more’ meant.

Was it attention? Stability? The absence of pressure, the freedom from his complicated, spotlight-driven life?

Or was it the possibility that someone else could understand parts of me Sullivan couldn’t?

The thought felt wrong, dangerous, unfair.

But I couldn’t stop seeing Asher’s eyes; calm, sincere, filled with something deeper than flirtation.

He hadn’t been stirring trouble. He’d been genuine.

The worst part was, some tiny, traitorous part of me wondered what if. What if things had been different? What if he had never walked into Venom?

My phone buzzed quietly, pulling me from my thoughts. I picked it up, heart skipping painfully when I saw Asher’s name.

I’m sorry for today. I meant every word I said, but I never wanted to hurt you.

I stared at the message, thumb hovering over the screen, unsure how to reply—or if I should reply at all.

I know, but we can’t do this.

I understand.

I put my phone down, sinking deeper into the couch. I knew understanding something and accepting it were two different things. Right now, my heart had no idea how to tell them apart.

I spent the next few days at Euphoria deliberately avoiding Asher. I arrived early, stayed behind the booth, and made sure I never ended up alone with him. Each time our eyes met across the crowded club, I quickly looked away, pretending the steady burn of guilt wasn’t eating at me.

Gina noticed immediately. "You’re avoiding Mr. Hollywood," she teased gently after my set one night, nudging my shoulder. "Something happen?"

"It’s complicated," I mumbled, eyes glued to my equipment as I packed up.

She sighed. "It always is."

The club was closed, almost deserted except for employees, and I finished cleaning my area, sweeping the turntables free of any dust that had managed to cling to it. Satisfied, I made my way from the booth, nodding at the few people I passed that said good night.

Vanessa wasn’t in my office. I bit my lip as I debated on what to do. As I came rushing out of her office, I ran smack-dab into Asher, and he had to reach out to steady me else I would have landed flat on my ass.

"Whoa, where’s the fire?"

"It usually starts in the kitchen."

Chuckling, he released me once he was sure I was steady again on my feet. "Where are you off to in such a rush?"

"I was looking for Vanessa."

"She already left. She told me to close up." Before I could respond, he stepped forward and casually stretched his arms out, hands pressed flat against the hallway walls blocking my path. "You’ve been avoiding me."

I squared my shoulders. I resisted the urge to step back. I hadn’t registered how close he was. I chose to step sideways, more for clarity than nerves. "I’ve been busy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Busy rehearsing your vanishing act?"

I ignored the dig. "I was going to tell Vanessa I want to help set up for the VIP party on Wednesday."

"That’s a week from now. Absolutely not."

"What?" I blinked. "Why? Everybody else is."

"Well, not everyone’s birthday is on Wednesday," he shrugged. "That entitles you to a free pass on all boring setup duties." The humor faded from his expression, and he slowly lowered his arms. "What’s wrong?"

I took a step back, gaze dropping. "Don’t mention my birthday. How did— Let me guess, my paperwork?" My voice was quiet. "Please don’t bring it up to anyone."

"Deal, but only if you tell me why."

I looked up, meeting his gaze in the dim hallway. "Because bad things tend to happen on my birthday. "