Page 5 of Obsession on Repeat (Vinyl Hearts #1)

I was dripping with sweat when I returned. I approached my apartment with my head down, focused on retrieving my key from the inside of my bra. Someone coughed. I looked up to see Sullivan leaning against my door frame, amused at having caught me with my hand down my shirt.

"It’s not what it looks like." I pulled my hand free. "I’m looking for my key."

"Do you always hide your keys in your underwear?"

"Only when I’m feeling kinky. Give me a minute." I eyed him as he moved away from the door frame. I angled my body, grumbling under my breath. "And no peeking."

"Are you sure you don’t want any help?"

Smiling victoriously, I pulled out the key. "I can search my breasts fine on my own, thank you." I reached the door, doing my best to ignore him standing so close to me. "You weren’t at Venom last night."

"I had a busy day with my management team, so I decided to get some rest."

I concentrated on sliding the key into the lock. "Alice told me she hadn’t seen you."

"Really? That’s interesting. I could have sworn Alice told me she had Saturdays off."

I flung open my door at the same time I brought my gaze to his. "Since when do you know about Alice’s off days?"

His eyebrows rose at the suspicious tone in my voice. "I started asking about yours, and she voluntarily told me."

"If you have a question about me, you can ask me, not someone else. You don’t see me going online when I’m curious about you, do you?"

"You probably don’t own a computer," he chuckled.

"I do too!" I objected, turning to face him in the doorway. He started laughing, and it took me by surprise. "Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny."

"I’m sorry, Rory."

"Then stop laughing."

He coughed as if a move to stop the next laugh from coming out and cleared his throat. "I’m sorry; you’re too adorable, staring up at me all…" He sighed, reaching out to stroke the side of my face. "You’re angry with me."

"I’m not angry," I grumbled .

"Yes, you are, but it’s okay. I only wanted to see you. I’m sorry if I bothered you."

"You’re leaving?"

"You don’t want me to go?" His grin let me know he was already aware of the answer, and I fought the childish urge to stomp my foot. "Can I come in?"

"If you don’t, honey, I’m going to invite him into my place."

"Mrs. Richards!" I rolled my eyes at the elderly lady entering her apartment from across the hall. "Alright, come inside."

Sullivan smiled at the woman before he walked past me. She winked at me before entering her apartment and shutting the door.

"Ignore her." I shut the door. "She’s old, and senile, and…" I stopped short mid-turn as he stretched his arms out to pin me against the door, his hands comfortably resting inches above my head. "Um, what are you doing?"

"Can I ask you something?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Do I have much of a choice?"

"You always have a choice, Rory." He studied me, eyes scanning the features of my face. "Did you miss me last night?"

I shifted against the door; certain I wasn’t going anywhere unless he let me. "I think you know I missed you last night. It’s pretty cruel to tease me about it. "

"I’m not teasing. I’m merely curious to see if you missed me as much as I missed you."

I tugged playfully at his shirt. "You should have come to see me. I was hoping to spin this new track for you."

"After our conversation at the beach and what happened, I wasn’t sure you would want me to. You should have texted me. I would have showed up."

"Never mind, it doesn’t matter what I thought."

He captured my chin with his right hand, tipping my face up to meet his gaze. "It matters to me. Spin it Monday. I’ll be there."

"I don’t think that’s such a good idea."

"Why not?"

I was slightly distracted by the feeling of his thumb brushing against my lower jaw. "If you keep coming by to see me, I’m going to start expecting it, and when you finally don’t show up, it’s going to bother me."

"By bother, do you mean you were upset I didn’t?"

"Do you need a thesaurus?"

"I’m trying to make sure I understand what you’re saying." He stopped stroking my chin, but his grip didn’t relax. "Did it bother you that I wasn’t there?"

"Why are you asking me that?" I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. "Please stop doing this."

"I don’t understand what I’m doing. "

I snorted. "Sometimes you act as if you have no idea what you’re doing to me. You’re making this hard for me; making it harder to say no each time I want to."

Pushing away from the door, he ran his hand through his hair. "I’m trying to handle this the best way I can, but you have to realize things aren’t that easy for me either."

"And how is this hard for you exactly?"

His gaze turned hard, and I barely had time to process what was happening when he was suddenly touching me again, pressing me flat against the door with one hand, his other cupping the back of my neck. I grabbed his shirt, sighing at his weight pressing against mine.

"I’m only a man." He bent his head to brush his lips against mine. "Trust me, you’re making it very hard for me."

"I could help you with that." I smirked when he inhaled sharply when my hands slipped under his shirt. "I’m all sweaty from running; I should probably take a shower."

"Rory…"

Wide-eyed, I gazed up at him. "I should!"

Releasing me, he pulled himself away from the door. "Hurry up; I want to take you out to lunch."

"No offer to wash my back?"

"Tempting, but lunch first."

At a small, downtown restaurant, I waited at a table by the window as he talked to the cashier, handing her money to pay for our order. The young blonde blushed at the attention, quietly thanking him and handing back his change. Several of the staff had greeted him the second we entered.

"We’re popular everywhere, aren’t we?"

He chuckled as he sat down across from me, shrugging nonchalantly. "I’ve eaten here a lot the last week. It reminds me of home."

"Where is home? Los Angeles?"

"Yeah, I’ve lived there for five years now. Lainie and I moved around a lot as kids. My father was in the military. My mother is originally from Perth, and when he retired, we lived there a while."

"Well, don’t worry; you’ll be home in no time."

"You don’t sound too upset by that."

I played with my napkin. "You have to go back at some point, right?"

"What about you? Is there a place you’ve ever called home? "

"No."

He studied me before glancing over his shoulder as our number was called. "Be right back."

I continued picking at the napkin until it was in tiny pieces. When he returned, he slid our food between us, and I retrieved my sandwich from the plastic tray.

"So, where were you born?"

I paused with my sandwich halfway to my mouth. "New Jersey."

"Do your parents still live there?"

"My mother died when I was twelve. My stepfather didn’t care what I did after that.

" The words tasted strange coming out, I hadn’t said them in years—or ever out loud to another person.

"I left home when I was sixteen, and I found ways to feed myself until I was able to get my first turntable.

I've moved from place to place making money. "

"You don’t stay in one place for too long."

I shook my head. "I love seeing the world. A home is nothing more than a place you sleep."

"How long have you been in Australia?"

"A year and seven months," I answered.

"Where are you going next?"

I reached for my drink, my fingers tightening around the plastic. I didn’t look at him. "I don’t know."

Sullivan reached for his sandwich; his head bent as he unwrapped the foil from around it. "You could always come back with me to Los Angeles. "

I froze with the cup half-way to my mouth. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I’m sure I could help get you some work." He looked up with a smile. "I know a few people who’d love to have you at their parties."

"I appreciate the gesture, but LA isn’t my thing." I concentrated on my sandwich again. "I don’t know if I’m going back to the United States anyway."

"When was the last time you were there?"

I looked up again. "What does it matter? What’s with all the sudden questions?"

"Hey, I’m curious about you, that’s all." He frowned. "What’s wrong?"

I jerked my hand away, trying to ignore the hurt look that flashed across his face. I forced a smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. "Let’s eat, okay?"

"I think I’d rather talk."

I left my food untouched. "There’s no reason to do a background check or try to learn all you can about me. It’s pointless."

"It’s not pointless to me." He reached out to grab my hand. "Why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because when I don’t, people get hurt, and I can’t have that on my conscience anymore." I pulled away, but he didn’t release me. "Let go."

His dark eyes studied my face, his grip tightening. "You think you’re the only person that gets scared of new things? Of making a mistake? You’re not, but sometimes you have to trust that things will work out."

"I’m only going to ask you one more time. Let go." When he released me, I sat back in my seat, pushing my half-eaten sandwich aside. "This isn’t going to work."

"What isn’t?"

"You. Me. Whatever this is." I motioned vaguely between us.

"You vanished, and all I could think about was that day on the beach and how it felt to—" I stopped myself, jaw clenched. His eyes were locked on me, unreadable. "I don’t let people in. Not because I’m cold or dramatic or some cliché damaged girl, but because when I do, they want more than I can give. "

"Did someone hurt you in the past?"

I let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. "Everyone’s been hurt. That’s not the point."

"I’m sorry."

"For what?"

"For vanishing. For pushing you to meet my family." He didn’t look away. "I’m not used to this. The way you don’t pretend to be anyone else around me. It’s… different."

Something in my chest twisted. Not enough to let my guard down, but enough to where the sudden tension wasn’t so palpable. I picked up my sandwich, took a small bite, and chewed. "I’m still annoyed."

He grinned, picking up his sandwich as well. "Trust me, I’ll make it up to you."

Sullivan insisted on walking me to my door. Right as I entered, my cell phone rang, and I barely heard him shut the door behind us as I answered. "Hey, Alice."

"Have you seen today’s paper?"

"I don’t exactly have a subscription," I frowned. "What about it?"

"You and your new boyfriend are on the cover at the beach together. Do you need a reminder of what you’re doing in the photo?"

"Oh, my God."

She laughed. "Was that what you were saying at the time?"

"Shut up, this isn’t funny."

"Unfortunately, it’s quite serious. Paparazzi came to the club a few minutes ago asking for information about you; two of them with cameras, press passes, the whole thing. They asked for ‘the mystery girl in the booth.’ Danny told them you didn’t exist."

I slumped onto the couch, panic already knotting in my chest. "This can’t be happening. "

"I’m not sure how, Rory, but they knew your name."

"I have to go." I ended the call before Alice could say another word. "This is exactly what I was afraid of," I muttered. "One photo, and suddenly I’m a headline, a story they get to make up."

Sullivan stood slowly from the stool near the kitchen counter. "We’ll handle it—"

"No," I snapped, turning on him. "You’ll handle it. You’ve got a team for this. You’ll smile on late-night TV and joke about your ‘mysterious beach fling’ while I’m left to burn."

His jaw tightened. "That’s not fair."

"Isn’t it? Because that’s how this works, right? You get to move on while I get to be dissected, called desperate or a mistake."

"You think I’d let that happen?"

"I think you don’t get it! I’ve spent my whole life staying under the radar. I’m not built for cameras in my face or strangers digging through my past."

"I didn’t ask for this either," he fired back. "I didn’t plan for some photographer to catch us on the beach, but I’m here. I’m trying, and all you do is push."

"I push because people leave!"

He stared at me, something in his expression breaking. "Maybe you push so they have to."

I looked away, jaw tight, chest heaving.

With a sigh, he grabbed his keys off the counter .

"Sullivan—" I started, but he didn’t look back.

"Call me when you figure out if you actually want someone to stay."

The door slammed behind him. The silence left in his place was deafening.