Page 19 of Burning Obsession

Over the next five minutes I go through a series of checking my phone and setting it down on the cushion. I even power it off and on, just to make sure it’s not freezing. It’s happened before and that’s what the call center told me to do. Something about being hung up between towers or some bullshit. Likely story. We can send someone to the moon and hear them clear as day but reception to talk to someone on the other side of town is nonexistent.

Don’t even get me going down my whole line of government conspiracies.

But there’s still no little check mark showing me he’s read it, or even looked at the message. Nothing to even show me he’s typing a response back.

I sigh so dramatically the lamp beside me looks concerned. Maybe Victor’s changed his mind. He was interested when he met me, but after thinking about it, he’s just not ready for anything. For a commitment. Maybe I gave off too much of a needy aura.

Then my phone buzzes and I freeze. My heart starts to race and I feel the same way I did earlier when Stellan called and I thought it was Victor.

Slowly I turn the phone over and look.

There’s a reply to my message. Carefully, I open the thread and look at what he wrote.

Chapter 6

Victor

All I can think about is earlier today. About him.

It’s ridiculous, really. We just talked. That’s it.

But I haven’t been able to shake him from my thoughts. And I don’t want to.

I have a meeting in front of me, numbers spread across my desk, three people arguing over their quarterly projections. I should be paying attention to them. Making sure they understand the impact the first quarter had on their company and the impact of the second if things don’t change.

It’s hard telling someone their business is basically headed for financial ruin, but it’s part of my job. The part I hate.

But instead of giving the meeting my full attention, I keep looking at my phone. Not because I’m waiting for an important email or expecting a work call.

It’s something far better.

Because there’s a number sitting in my contacts that wasn’t there this morning. A number that can change my life.

His number.

I still can’t believe I have it. That, for a second, I almost didn’t. I was walking away and if it wasn’t for him, I’d be here regretting not taking a bigger chance. That’s the part that keeps replaying in my head.

Today was a fluke. I had no plans of stepping foot inside the café, but when I walked by and smelled the rich aroma, I needed it.

In and out. That is my plan since I need to get back home. I have an online meeting, one that I’ve been dreading, then some customer accounts I need to input some receipts on.

It’s all going as planned, as I walk in the door, until I see the crowd. Busy as fucking hell. My eyes scan the room debating if the coffee is really worth it no matter how good it smells.

Then I see him.

He’s sitting at one of the tables near the window, one hand wrapped around his coffee, the other holding his phone. Completely oblivious to everything happening around him.

Including me staring at him. And for some reason, I can’t look away.

He’s got dark hair, cut short, the ends sticking all over the place like he just ran his fingers through it. Or he just didn’t bother to style it. There’s something rugged about him. His shirt hugs his shoulders and arms, making it painfully obvious that he works out.

In one word, he’s gorgeous.

With how crowded it is, I should be turning around and walking out the door. But I don’t. I head straight to the counter and get in line. The whole time I’m standing there, inching forward slowly, I keep my eyes on him.

He never looks up. Every once in a while he glances out the window, but his eyes go right back to his phone. Even when he lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a sip, he never looks up.

“Can I help you, sir?” a soft, feminine voice asks.