Page 175 of Reckless Obsession

It is seven in the fucking morning, Maksim.

I have a question; I probably need some advice too.

Why are you asking me questions or needing advice at seven in the fucking morning?

A grin tugs at my mouth. Tyler is always grumpy in the mornings. It is one of his more predictable traits, which means it is one of the few things I find comforting about him.

I walk back into the bedroom, drop onto the bed, and open Cash App. Luckily, I already have his tag memorized.

I send him money. A ridiculous amount, considering the hour.

Then I type:

Good enough for Sephora shopping?

A moment passes.

Then he sends a selfie.

He is buried in a pillow, hair everywhere, eyes barely open, but he has a cheeky smile on his beautiful face. The picture would be cute if he were not such a menace.

You just made my morning, babydoll. I am awake now, fully energized and beautiful as always.

What’s the question?

I stare at the message box. The words feel stupid the second I start typing them, but I send it anyway.

Is it normal that Tristan hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts for days?

Days? As in plural?

Yes. Four days.

And you are just telling me this now?

I didn’t want to bother anyone.

You sent me money at seven a.m. That is literally a distress signal. Okay, seriously. Four days is weird.