Endless Obsession (19 page)

I pass the sliced cheese to her and she starts placing pieces on top of the concoction. Her eyes twinkle when she continues.

“You should have seen the look on Grant’s face when that shit hit. I almost felt sorry for him, but then the bitch was fawning all over him, so I sat back and enjoyed the show. I think he barely made it to the bathroom.”

Our earlier fit of laughter starts again. I really shouldn’t enjoy this, but I just can’t muster up any sympathy.

“Tony and Patrick knew I had something to do with Grant’s immediate departure to the bathroom. It was hard to keep the pleasure off my face as I watched the show. I told them that he cheated on a friend, so I was paying him back. Patrick told me I wasn’t allowed behind his bar anymore, but I could tell he wasn’t too bothered by it.”

I reach over and give her a hug. Every single day this woman reminds me of how lucky I am to have her. I didn’t realize how much I needed a friend until she came along.

“Although, I shouldn’t be thanking you for causing my ex such…” I wrinkle my nose. “discomfort. I’m still so glad to have you as a friend. You’re the best, Liv.”

I walk over to the oven and open the door for her. She places the pan inside and sets the temperature and timer.

“And don’t you forget it,” she says, shooting me a wink as she leans back against the counter. I don’t like the look in her eyes now. “So, you haven’t mentioned Sterling yet. I’ve been trying to mind my own business, hoping you would bring him up, but obviously that isn’t working. It’s time to spill your guts. Anything new?”

At the mention of his name, tingles start to form in my stomach. I can’t even hear his name without my body reacting. Liv is right, though. I haven’t brought his name up. I’m still not sure if I want to. I’m still trying to come to grips with what happened, how I feel about it, and how fucked up it makes me. Who in their right mind blindfolds themselves and lets a total stranger into their home, knowing that he’ll be touching her? That is
not
normal. I should be locked up and classified as insane.

As I stand there and watch Liv watching me with expectant eyes, I fight with myself on whether or not I should tell her what happened last night. The whole incident has left me confused, and if I’m honest, ashamed. Ashamed that I allowed myself to become so vulnerable. Maybe having someone else’s opinion will help?

I pull in a deep breath and release it.

“I saw Sterling last night,” I admit, my voice low.

“What?” she practically yells. “Why in the hell didn’t you say something when you first walked in? What does he look like? Is he hot? What did y’all do? How did this come about?”

I cringe with her loud questions. I swear I need earplugs around this woman. She’s got the lungs of a banshee and is not prejudice against using them when she feels the need. I love her to pieces, but she really needs a muzzle sometimes.

“Well, I didn’t technically
see
him. I was blindfolded.”

I brace myself for another shriek, but it doesn’t come. Instead, her brows dip low in confusion. “Say what?”

“You heard me. I was blindfolded.” She opens her mouth to question me further, but I beat her to the punch. “He sent me some lingerie and a scarf to wear over my eyes.”

Her eyes grow wide, but I see interest there, and maybe something more. Envy, maybe?

“I wanna be you,” she breathes, making me laugh.

“I’m sure you can talk Tony into blindfolding you,” I tell her, giggling.

She shakes her head, coming out of her daze, and asks with a note of disappointment in her voice, “So, you didn’t get to see him at all?”

“Nope.” I ask the question that’s been bugging me since last night and hope she can help me shed some light on the situation. “Do you think I’m totally insane for letting him in my house?”

Instead of answering, she says, “Come on. This is going to require some wine.” She grabs my hand and tugs me back to the dining room.

We both take a seat and she refills our glasses to the top. I gulp mine halfway down.

“Okay. First off, how did he get in your house?”

I look away from her, embarrassed. I don’t know the answer. I didn’t even ask him last night how he got in. I was so absorbed in the fact that he was there and the anticipation of what was going to happen, it didn’t even cross my mind. The man leaves me completely incapable of thinking straight.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “You know I always lock my doors. I would assume he had to pick his way in?” I pose it as a question, hoping she can come up with another alternative.

“Hmm… probably.” She thinks for a second, tapping her chin, before continuing. “Did you guys have sex?”

I look down at my hands in my lap, feeling a slight blush form on my face. “No.”

“Did he get too rough and demanding?”

I look up. “No. He was actually very gentle.” Which still surprises me. I wouldn’t have pegged Sterling for a gentle lover. I pictured him as someone that likes the rougher side of sex. I don’t know why I felt that way, but I did. And I have to admit, the thought of a demanding Sterling in bed has my girly bits tingling. I adjust in my seat at the mental image of him forcing me to do things I’ve never done before.

Liv scoots her chair closer to me and grabs my hand.

“You asked me if I thought you were insane for letting a stranger into your house, someone who I assume you let have free reign of your body?” She waits for my confirmation, and I give her a nod. “I would have to say yes.”

I go to pull my hand away. I was worried she would feel that way, but I knew she’d be right. I don’t make it far as she squeezes it tighter in her grip.

“Wait, I’m not finished. I
do
think what you’re doing is crazy, but I think it could be a good crazy. I think you should pursue this, but also stay cautious. The guy seems legit, but in the end you don’t know him, and until you do, keep one eye open. I want to see you happy, and I’ve seen a spark in your eye over the last week that I’ve never seen before.”

Tears prick my eyes at the sincerity in her voice. She knows everything about me, all the heartache I’ve been through, and my secret wish of finding a man that I can love and will love me wholeheartedly in return.

I pull her in for a hug and murmur at her ear, “Love you, Liv.”

She pulls back, just as the timer goes off on the oven.

“Love you too, Pop. Now, let’s go get some chips and dip and tackle my dress issue before I decide to wear a burlap sack.”

Later that afternoon, I walk through my front door with a stack of mail in hand. I set it, my purse, and my keys down on the kitchen counter and pull a bottled water from the fridge. I’m glad to be home. As much as I love Liv and want her to have the best wedding ever, she’s driving me crazy with the whole dress issue. I get it. She deserves it, but damn, the woman is picky as hell. We had to have looked through ten different magazines and about fifty different websites, and absolutely nothing caught her eye. We finally decided to call it quits and hoped the next time we’d have better luck.

Capping my bottle of water, I set it down and walk down the hallway to my room. I get halfway there when I hear my phone ring, which is still in the kitchen. Without stopping, I turn on my heel and backtrack. My feet move fast and my heart rate spikes thinking it could be Sterling. When I grab it from the counter, I’m shocked at the number displayed on the screen. In the year I’ve worked at Silver Technologies, Asher has never called me after hours before. I have his number programmed in my phone for emergencies and such, and he has mine, but he’s never used it.

“Hello?”

Crap
. Did my voice just squeak?

“Hello, Poppy.”

Damn
. He even sounds sexy over the phone. It’s smooth and gruff. The deep timber of it sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve talked with him over the intercom at work, but this feels different. I’m in my personal space right now. Up until our dinner the other night, I’ve never been able to imagine Asher in any other setting other than the office. But now, images of him sitting on a leather couch with his feet propped up on a coffee table, maybe with a glass of whiskey in his other hand, comes to mind. The image morphs into something more as I see myself walking over to him, his eyes glued to the sway of my hips, until I’m standing between his legs. He reaches up…

“… pair of cowgirl boots?”

I’m so engrossed in my ridiculous thoughts that I didn’t realize he was talking.

“I-I’m sorry. What?” I stutter.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No!” I blurt out, and then feel stupid at my outburst. I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. That damn image did a number on my brain. “No,” I say more calmly. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something else.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

I almost drop the phone. I will definitely
not
be enlightening him.

“No, thanks.”

I swear I hear him chuckle on the other end of the line before he says, “I was asking if you own a pair of cowgirl boots.”

I’m caught off guard by his question and have to think about it for a minute. Cowgirl boots? He really called to ask me if I own a pair of cowgirl boots?”

“Uhh…nooo.” I reply, drawing out the word.

“You can’t go to Texas without cowgirl boots, Poppy. It’s mandatory. Especially if you’re wanting to explore.”

I slap my forehead when I realize what he’s talking about.
Texas, you idiot.

“Oh, well, I guess I better get a pair then.” I can’t keep the silly grin off my face at the thought of boot scootin’ in a pair of boots, knee-high skirt, and a plaid button-down. A thought occurs to me. “Wait. Do you own a pair?”

I can’t picture him being the type to wear boots. Or plaid shirts for that matter. It almost makes me laugh as I try to force the image out of my head.

“No, I don’t,” he says, clearly amused.

“But you just said it was mandatory,” I remind him.

Leaning a hip against the counter, I start flipping through my mail. There are a few bills and several advertisements.

“Not for me.”

“Are you, like, special or something?”

“No. I just don’t wear cowboy boots.”

I hear a beep in my ear, indicting an incoming call, and I pull it away to look at the screen. My stomach flips when Sterling’s name appears. Then a smile crosses my face.

“Poppy?” I distantly hear Asher call.

Damn it. I don’t know what to do. I want to let Asher go so I can talk to Sterling, but I also want to keep Asher on the phone. We’re actually having a comfortable conversation, something that doesn’t happen often for me in regards to him. I’m confused. How can I be attracted to two men at once? How can I want both of their attention? Asher’s never shown interest in me, but he does seem to be opening up more, and I’m enjoying it.

I’m such a hussy. Especially after the night Sterling and I shared. Guilt plagues me.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I bring the phone back to my ear. I’ll call Sterling back.

“Yeah, sorry. Someone was beeping in.”

“Do you need to go?” he asks. There’s something in his voice, but I’m not sure what it is. It almost sounds like suspicion.

“No. I can call them back.”

He’s quiet for a minute, then says, “Cowboy boots. Get a pair this week. And while you’re at it, grab one of those plaid shirts. We’ve got to make sure you blend in and not come off as touristy.”

I laugh. “Yes, boss.”

I pick up the junk mail that’s destined for the trash and toss it, leaving the newspaper on the counter. I’m old fashioned and still enjoy looking through the local paper versus watching it on the television or reading about it online. I get that from my dad. Every morning he would sit at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper spread out before him.

“I’ll let you go. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Poppy. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Thanks, Asher. I’ll see you Monday.”

We disconnect and for some asinine reason, I’m disappointed at the loss of connection. I really enjoyed talking with him. The conversation was light, and I felt at ease with him. I wouldn’t say he’s uptight, but he’s generally very quiet and watchful, never letting too much of his personality show. It’s hard to tell the type of mood he’s in at work, but the other night during dinner, and then again tonight, he seemed like a normal person and not the silent businessman he normally portrays.