𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

7

Just as I was about to hand him it back, Toby pulls it out of my hand and hurls it off the wall, smashing it to pieces across the floor.

Snatching one of them by the collar, Toby boots his feet away from him, making him let out a loud grunt when his back collides with the ground.

I stand there, in shock, grasping at my bag of Chinese food. "Toby, what the fuck?"

He straightens up and watches the two guys scurry out of the shop, leaving the busted phone on the floor. "Are you okay?" he asks, cupping my cheek, making me flinch from his delicate touch.

I jerk away and grimace at him. "Why did you do that?"

Shaking his head, he looks at the server and back to me. "Do me a favour and don't give your address to random men again, okay? Gabriella came to meet us and said you were yourself, and I know what this area is like, so I had to make sure you were safe."

Oh.

Toby takes my silence for acceptance and grabs my hand, walking me out of the Chinese takeaway and down the road. I stay quiet, drunkenly thinking of ways to tell him he's an arsehole who needs to stop with the hot and cold shit.

He stops at a dark low-down car, the windows and wheels tinted black. "This is your car?" I lift a brow at him when he bobs his head, pulling the door upwards for me to get in. "So, you're rich and a prick? Great."

Rolling his eyes, he takes my bag of Chinese food from my hand and helps me in, crouching over me and grabbing the seatbelt, filling my nose with his musky cedarwood aftershave. I cross my legs at the closeness of him, the side of his neck exposed to my mouth as he fights to get the clip in.

Sober Aria will kill me for even going with him, but drunken Aria desperately wants him to continue on from our last encounter.

"Where are you taking me? You shouldn't drink and drive."

I probably shouldn't be so open to letting him drive me away from my happy place, which was seconds from diving into my hot food that's now sitting on my lap.

The smell is starting to turn my stomach though.

"I can't drink," he says, turning the engine on, which hums pretty fucking loud, rumbling my seat. Well, I hope that's what rumbled, or I need to crack a window before he notices.

"Whatever, take me home." I point in front of us, singing the last words. When he indicates out, I turn to him, frowning. "You know what, Whiplash, I don't like you. I want a new assistant." I cross my arms in front of me, watching as he shakes his head with a smirk on his flawless little face.

"I'm taking you home," he says, looking in the mirrors and driving off. "Gabriella is at my place with Justin. Unless you want to watch them bone against every wall in the house, you're better off at the hotel."

"Wouldn't be the first time," I slur, giggling to myself at the memory of walking in the flat and seeing her bent over the kitchen table with a gag in her mouth, the dude holding chains around her neck like a dog leash and playing Gerry Cinnamon music.

He's a great musician in Scotland, look him up!

"I'm not having sex with you, so don't get any ideas."

His head snaps to the side, gaping at me with his eyes wide. "Why would I think that? Jesus, Doctor Miller, I'm driving you back to the hotel."

Um... what?

My head is spinning, making the road rotate. I'm fully on this fast as fuck merry-go-round, my face draining of any blood, colour, the dizziness getting worse.