Page 96 of The Obvious Check
When the image finally loads, my chest goes tight and I feel like a complete psycho for grinning at a goddamn phone screen like a lovesick teenager.
She's there. She's home.
And she's perfect.
And wearing my T-shirt, flaunting the fact that she’s mine but I can’t have her. Her damp hair falls over her shoulder as she settles onto the couch, a book balanced on her lap, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m watching. The glow from the lamp casts soft shadows across her face, her bare legs tucked beneath her, looking more at home in my, or our, apartment than I ever have.
Stanley, the traitor, is sprawled out beside her, his giant head resting on her thigh, fast asleep. She absentmindedly scratches behind his ear, and they look so natural together; not like she’s only been in our lives for a few weeks. Like she’s always been there. Like she’s ours.
Fuck. I have it bad for her. She could literally smile at me, and I’d give her everything I own.
Closing the app would be the smart move. A normal, non-obsessive fiancé would shut it down, respect her space, and get some damn sleep, but my need to hear her voice outweighs any shred of sanity I have left. Without thinking, I press the mic button.
“Hey, Pretty Girl.”
My voice crackles through the small speaker, and Savannah jolts, her head snapping up. Her book slips slightly from her hands as she gasps, her wide eyes darting around the room.
Shit. Maybe I should have led with something less creepy.
“Cade?” Her voice is tense, her body coiled tight. Stanley barks, his tail thumping against the floor because he already knows exactly where I am.
“Over here,” I say, pressing the green button on my screen. With a flick of my finger, I activate the treat dispenser, and a small biscuit drops to the floor. Stanley snatches it up in one bite, his tail wagging like this is the best surprise of his life.
Savannah startles, her head tilting in confusion. But before she can fully register what’s happening, Stanley steps right in front of the camera, barking for more.
“Sit,” I command, and the moment he obeys, my view clears, revealing Savannah behind him, her lips parted in sheer outrage.
“Are you serious?” She drops her book onto the couch and marches toward the camera, her face filling my screen in the best possible way. “You’re spying on me now?”
God, she’s stunning. Even pissed off, she’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. I smirk, shifting on the bed, trying to get comfortable while secretly enjoying every second of this.
“I’m not spying,” I say smoothly, stretching my legs out. “I’m just checking in, making sure you got home safe after your classes.”
She folds her arms, leveling me with a glare that should probably make me feel guilty. It doesn’t. Not even a little.
“Honestly, I thought you’d be asleep,” I add, my voice softer now, because the truth is, I didn’t expect to see her at all. But seeing her wrapped up in my shirt is the best part of my day.
She laughs, strolling back to the couch, and I nearly get a boner watching her pert little ass in a pair of tight sleep shorts. “You do realize that sounds creepy, right? You watching me while I sleep?”
“Is it creepy when you’re my soon-to-be wife?”
“Even creepier because who knows what you’re doing while you watch me,” she teases, and I bark out a laugh.
“Oh, are we going there, Pretty Girl? I called just to check up on you. If you want to do something dirty, you know all you have to do is ask, right? Anytime. Any day. I’m ready when you are.”
She fiddles with her hands and even in the grainy shot, I can tell she’s blushing a little. “Stop it,” she chastises me playfully.
I laugh. “Really? I can’t flirt with my fiancée? After what we did last night?” She purses her lips tightly, and even on the grainy video, I can see her cheeks flushing. “Not to mention the fact you’re wearing my shirt right now. Are you trying to kill me over here?”
Her gaze drops to the fabric, and she pulls it away from her, reading the name of my high school, North Central High. “I’m sorry. I saw it in the laundry, and I wanted something comfortable to wear. I figured you’d never know.”
I hum, tilting my head. “So you admit you stole it?”
She scowls. “No. I borrowed it.”
“Permanently?”
“Maybe,” she huffs, glaring at the camera like she’s going to kick it into oblivion in a minute.
