Chaotic Obsession
The look she'd given him the night before—wrecked, wanting, confused—mir-rored his own soul, a silent acknowledgment of the magnetic pull betweenthem, a silent confession of desires they both knew they shouldn't indulge.
He couldn't drink that memory away.
God knows he'd tried.
By the time Alli disappeared into the back room to close out, Johnny was three drinks
past reason, elbows heavy on the worn wood of the bar, head bowed in defeat. He didn't hear Layla until she slid
onto the stool beside him, the vinyl squeaking beneath her weight, her presence announced by a cloud of perfume—sharp, sugary, sickening in a way he
used to crave. It was the smell of cheap thrills and "eeting pleasure, a
Hot Chapters