Loving A Moretti - THE OBSESSION

Chapter FIFTEEN

I spent longer than necessary getting ready that Saturday.

I changed my shirt twice, then changed it again.

The first one was too casual. The second made me look like I was trying too hard, which was ridiculous because I was very obviously trying. Eventually, I settled on a fitted black top and jeans, added small silver hoops, and spent more time than I wanted to admit fixing my hair.

I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself.

“You’re being ridiculous,” I muttered.

My reflection offered no argument. I added a little more mascara.That didn’t help.If anything, it made the whole thing worse.

I had no actual plans. I hadn’t even decided where I was going. I just knew I wanted to get out of the apartment, and somewhere along the way, getting ready had turned into something else.

I reached for my bag, then stopped when I caught my reflection again.

I wanted to look good.

For him.

The realization made me press my lips together.

Fine.

I could admit that much to myself.

I grabbed my bag and walked into the living room, where Jennie and Dean were both occupying the couch. Jennie had her laptop open across her legs while Dean was sorting through a pile of clothes on the floor.

He looked up first.

His eyes moved over me before returning to my face. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Maybe.”

Jennie glanced over the top of her laptop. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Don’t,” I warned her.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly. Keep it that way.”

Jennie laughed under her breath.

“I was thinking you look nice.”

I relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”

Dean picked up another shirt from the floor. “She definitely dressed up.”

I looked at him. “You two are making me regret coming out here.”

Dean gave me mischievous smile.

I grabbed my bag from the counter before they could continue.

“I’ll be back later.”

“Sure,” Jennie said, smiling at her laptop again.

I didn’t bother asking what she was smiling about.

Outside, the afternoon was warm, and I immediately wished I hadn’t spent so much time fixing my hair because the humidity was already working against me.

Still, I kept walking.

I didn’t have a plan.

That was partly why I went.

I walked toward the river, stopping at a small outdoor market set up along the street. Food stalls, handmade jewelry, old records, books and clothes filled the space. The crowd made it busy without becoming uncomfortable.

I bought a lemonade and wandered for a while, taking my time as I looked through the stalls.

Half an hour later, I spotted Larkin.

He was standing at one of the tables, sorting through a box of old photographs.

I slowed down before he noticed me.

For once, I got to see him first.

He picked up one photograph, studied it and returned it to the box. His movements were calm and unhurried, nothing like the uncertainty that usually overtook him whenever he realized I was nearby.

Then I stepped closer.

He glanced up.

The change was immediate. His hand stopped over the box, and the guardedness left his face.

“Isabelle.” He gave a quiet laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“Walking around.”

His attention shifted to the lemonade in my hand. “Very serious business.”

“You sound jealous.”

“Of lemonade?”

I chuckled. “Maybe.”

He shook his head and returned to the photographs. “I was looking for something.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

I crouched beside the box and began sorting through it too. “That’s helpful.”

“I’ve been told.”

We spent several minutes examining old photographs and postcards. Every now and then, we reached for the same thing. The first time, we both pulled back.

The second time, I didn’t.

My fingers brushed his. I let the contact linger for a second before taking the photograph.

“You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.”

He glanced at me, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re getting bold.”

“Maybe I am.”

“That could be a problem.”

“For you?”

He laughed softly. “Probably.”

We continued through the market, stopping whenever something caught our attention. I found a pair of silver earrings I didn’t need and bought them anyway. Larkin examined a stack of old watches without purchasing one.

Eventually, we reached the quieter end, where the stalls thinned and the street opened toward the river.

I leaned against the railing, watching the water.

Larkin came to stand beside me.

For a while, the market’s noise filled the space between us.

Then he shifted closer. His shoulder brushed mine, and one hand settled on the railing near my own. The question was there without either of us saying it.

I turned toward him and kissed him.

His hand found my waist almost immediately, though his touch remained gentle. He kissed me back, slower than before, and I relaxed against him.

When we parted, I stayed close.

His thumb moved once against my side.

“You’re making it hard for me to think.”

I smiled.“That sounds like a you problem.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, and his hand stayed where it was.

I kissed him again.

This time, the restraint between us gave way. My fingers caught in the front of his jacket, and his hand moved from my waist to the middle of my back. He drew me closer, warmth passing through the layers between us.

I deepened the kiss.

He answered without delay.

The world around us receded into traffic, voices and distant music. None of it made me want to stop.

His hand slid higher along my back before stopping.

He pulled away slightly. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t want to assume.”

The words settled warmly in my chest. He could have kept going, but he chose to stop and let me decide what happened next.

I touched his collar, smoothing a fold that didn’t need fixing.

“I’m still here.”

His attention held mine.

I leaned in and kissed him again. His hand returned to my waist.

This time, neither of us pretended the kiss would be brief.

His fingers tightened slightly against my side as I moved closer. I slid one hand behind his neck, and a quiet sound, almost a laugh vibrated against my mouth.

When we finally separated, I rested my forehead against his.

Our breathing had gone uneven.

“We should probably stop,” he said.

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Because we’re standing in public.”

I glanced toward the market. People were still passing along the sidewalk, close enough that someone could easily notice us.

I stepped back.

“Fair.”

“You know,” he said, “I’m starting to think you enjoy making things difficult.”

I smiled. “Maybe I do.”

He shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I’m beginning to regret encouraging you.”

“You encouraged me?”

“Unfortunately.”

We walked away from the market, still close enough that our shoulders brushed every few steps.

We didn’t talk much as we walked, but the silence no longer felt uncertain. At the next intersection, I stopped.

“I should go home.”

“Okay.”

Neither of us moved right away.

“See you?”

“I’d like that.”

I smiled and turned toward my street.

After a few steps, I glanced back. He was still standing there. I lifted a hand in farewell and kept walking. By the time I reached my building, my lips still felt warm.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Jennie was in the kitchen, opening a cabinet. She looked over when she heard me, and her eyes immediately went to my face.

Then she smiled.

I dropped my bag onto the chair. “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself.”

“I haven’t said a word.”

“Your face did.”

She laughed and pulled a glass from the cabinet. “I’m just glad you had a good night.”

I tried not to smile.

It didn’t work.

I walked past her toward the bedroom. Behind me, her laughter followed. I didn’t bother denying the grin on my face.