OBSESSED

20

LEAH

As I charged toward the locker room, the pain in my leg was overriden by the chaotic thoughts pinging through my head.  

Jarrod. Danny. Jarrod and Danny met each other.

Shit shit shit.

My life had evolved into a soap opera in a matter of minutes and I had to admit that this was not for me.

What is Jarrod doing at my gym? Why is Danny asking me to go to his work party with him? Again, what in the hell is Jarrod doing here?

I stumbled into the locker room and went directly to the sink. A woman tying her shoes on the bench glanced up with a concerned expression.

"You alright?" she asked.

Although the thought of faking a heart attack to escape this ridiculous situation crossed my mind, I nodded instead. "Fine, thanks."

The woman seemed more than willing to accept my excuse and exited the locker rooms. Meanwhile, I wet a paper towel and flopped onto the bench. Now that I was alone, the pain returned returned to the forefront of my attention.

An involuntary hiss slipped through my lips while I dabbed the cuts on my chin. Fortunately, only one of them was deep enough to bleed. I applied pressure to the cut and took a deep breath to collect my spiraling anxieties.

How was I going to get out of here? I didn't want to face either male outside those doors.

Should've just gone home and eaten the damn ice cream.

"Leah?" Jarrod called. "Are you okay?"

Panic tore through me. He appeared around the corner, his gaze locking on me.

"What are you doing?" I whisper-yelled. "This is the women's room!"

He knelt by my feet and examined my battered shins. I didn't argue as he removed the paper towel to get a better look. My breathing hitched, sounding suspiciously close to hyperventilation.

"It's just a cut," I said. "Seriously, it's no big deal."

The two copper pools swirling in his irises drew me in. A wave of calm washed over me.

"Deep breaths," he instructed softly. "There you go."

As I breathed deeply with him, the tightening in my chest gradually lessened until only a little ball of knots remained in my stomach. That wouldn't be going away until Jarrod removed his warm hands from my skin.

"It's superficial," he said, squeezing the calf of my wounded leg. "The bleeding's stopped, so we can put a bandaid on and you'll be as good as new."

"I wish that was true," I muttered. His eyes narrowed. "Jarrod, you have to get out of here before we get in trouble."

"I'm not leaving until I know you're okay."

I shot him an incredulous look. "I'm fine."

"You're not," he countered, scrutinizing my face again. "Do you want me to make him leave?"

"No, I don't want to cause a bigger scene." I pushed my face into my hands, sighing. "I just want to leave."

"Okay. Let's go." He stood up, offering me his hand.