Page 62 of Obsession on Repeat

I didn’t flinch. "Yeah." I looked down at my hands. "I needed to close something, or at least stop reopening it."

"And?"

"I think I finally did."

He exhaled. "Good."

Hesitantly, I rested my head on his shoulder. He didn’t move for a long time, then he reached over and laced our fingers together.

Somehow, I ended up at his house. I hadn’t planned to stay over. I borrowed one of his t-shirts and curled up on the couch, smelling of sweat and music.

When he pulled a blanket over us and settled behind me, it felt like I belonged there. I let myself believe it. I ignored all the screaming alarms as I settled against him and closed my eyes. I was half-awake, head on his chest, when the buzz of his phone broke through the stillness.

"Shit."

I blinked up at him. "What?"

Asher sat up, already typing. "Vanessa. Twice. My publicist. My agent."

"What happened?"

He opened his email, and I watched his jaw tighten. "They want a statement about us."

Frowning, I sat up, staring at him. "About what?"

He turned the screen to me.

Sullivan Masters’ Ex In Hot Club Affair With Rival Star - Breaks Her Silencein Private Call.

I stared at it, stunned.

"There’s a quote from his camp. Someone’s decided to spin your call like a betrayal. You know how drama sells."

My throat went dry.

"Did you say anything to him that could be twisted?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t think it mattered."

His jaw clenched. "It shouldn’t, but they’re going to make it matter."

I stood up, beginning to pace. "This is exactly what I didn’t want. This is why I never wanted to do this in the open."

His voice was calm, but firm. "So what are you saying?"

My throat tightened. "I’m saying I don’t know if I can do this, under a microscope with strangers dissecting every glance and every word I say."

He didn’t speak right away.

"I thought I could handle the attention," I continued, pacing now, trying to outrun the weight of what I was saying. "I’ve done it before, but this feels different. They’re trying to turn me into a version of myself I’ve worked so hard to bury."

I stopped moving and looked at him. "I need space."

"From me?"

I shook my head, but it didn’t make what I was saying any easier. "I need space from everything, especially the spotlight, and this version of me the world keeps tryingto write without asking who I actually am." My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. "I can’t lose myself again. I barely survived it the first time."

Asher looked like I’d peeled back something raw, something he didn’t know how to put back, and yet, he nodded.