Chapter 3

I was still shaking when I picked up my phone.

"Take your time," I told Julia, my voice steady and my knee bouncing hard enough to move the cushions. "He doesn't even have to come home tonight."

"You're serious?"

"Of course. Why would I joke?"

I had more than enough to make up for. I might as well start before anyone made me stop.

Julia's voice went cold. "Sebastian isn't coming home tonight." She hung up.

Fine. Let him stay out. Let him stay out all night if it kept him away from whoever was texting me.

I ordered dinner. Sebastian disliked having other people in the house, so he handled the cleaning, and we ordered food when he wasn't cooking.

Usually, placing the order was my job. I got fried chicken and a cola, put my troubles aside for the moment, and sprawled on the couch with trash TV and the bucket.

Half an hour later, Sebastian came home.

The dim light traced the lean line of his waist and legs. His face, unfortunately, was grim. 

As he approached, the sharp scrutiny in his eyes chilled me.

"Why are you back?"

He studied my face as though he might find an answer written there. "I told you I'd be home on time."

His gaze dropped to the last pieces of my fried chicken. "Where's dinner?"

He sounded almost offended that I hadn't ordered any for him.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

"They invited me to discuss a project. I didn't go to see Julia."

As if I'd believe that. I nodded anyway. He raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know she'd be there."

"Okay."

"I didn't explain yesterday. Blake Carter invited me today. Julia tagged along."

I showed no sign of being upset. Maybe I imagined it, but for a second he looked almost hurt.

I remembered he still hadn't eaten. "I can order you something. The place from yesterday?"

He said nothing for a long while.

When I finally looked up at him, his usual cool expression was back. "Don't bother. I'm not hungry."

While he showered, his phone rang several times.

Those calls used to put me on edge. His friends had practically called him every day, egging him on.

A few times I'd hung up for him, until he found out and warned me never to touch his phone again.

This time I took it to the bathroom door. "Sebastian, someone's calling. Want me to pick up?"

The water stopped. A moment later he came out in a towel, water still dripping from his half-dried hair.

He saw the ringing screen, frowned, and declined the call.

Before I could react, he stepped toward me, backing me up until I hit the bed.

He planted one knee on the mattress and leaned in until our noses almost touched. "What's gotten into you today?"

"What do you mean?"

His eyes were still damp from the shower. He caught my mouth in a sudden, fierce kiss.

I flinched and covered his lips with my hand. "No—you don't have to!"

Sebastian was beautiful, especially fresh out of the shower. Water ran from his hair down his collarbone and chest, disappearing beneath the towel. 

It had been my rule: every time he came out, wet and still dripping, he wasn't allowed to dry his hair until he'd let me take what I wanted first.

I used to hold his jaw and kiss him until he couldn't breathe, one hand flat on his chest to keep him against the wall.

That was the state he couldn't hide from me—and the one I liked best.

Except tonight I couldn't. I covered my mouth. "Go dry your hair."

He went still above me. His breath came heavy against my mouth. "You don't want to?"

I nodded behind my hand. "I've thought about it. You're busy. I shouldn't keep making you spend your time on this. Before, I was... Anyway, you ought to get some rest."

His brows drew together as he searched my face again. "You're sure?"

I told him I was. He let his nose graze my cheek and pulled away. "Mm," he said, as though he didn't believe a word.

"I mean from now on, too. I won't bother you anymore."

His frown deepened. Something hard flickered through his eyes. "Fine. I heard you."