but the small glimpse is enough to send my heart into a tailspin. My head turns like one of those creepy bitches in an exorcist movie—slow, but instead of an evil smile, I’m sure I look like I just found out that there’s evidence the earth is actually flat or some shit. Because that’s also fucking laughable. Oxygen, words, coherent thoughts—all that shit escapes me when I get my first look at Adeline Reilly in the flesh. Shit. She’s even more exquisite in person. The sight of her has my knees weakening and my pulse racing. I don’t know if God really exists. I don’t know if mankind has ever walked on the moon. Nor do I know if parallel universes exist. But what I do know is that I just found the meaning of life sitting behind a table with an awkward smile on her face. Taking a deep breath, I find a spot against the wall in the back. I don’t want to get too close yet. No. I want to watch her for a while. So I stay in the back, peeking through dozens of heads to get a good look at her. Thank god for my height because I’d probably barrel through everybody if I were short. A tall, willowy woman hands my new obsession a microphone, and for a brief moment, the latter looks like she’s ready to bolt. She stares at the mic as if the woman is handing over a severed head. But the look is gone in seconds, barely there before she slides her mask in place. And then she snatches the microphone and brings it to her wobbly lips. “Before we start...” Fuck, her voice is pure smoke. The kind you really only hear in porn videos. I suck in my bottom lip, biting back a groan. I lean against the wall and watch her, absolutely enthralled with the little creature before me. Something inexplicably dark arises in my chest. It’s black and evil and cruel. Dangerous, even. All I want to do is break her. Shatter her into pieces. And then arrange those pieces to fit against my own. I don’t care if they don’t fit—I’ll fucking make them. And I know I’m about to do something bad. I know that I’m going to cross lines that I will never be able to come back from, but there’s not an ounce of me that gives a fuck. Because I’m obsessed.