Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
20
April
More attitude.
I give up, I throw my hands up in the air in disgust. “Go home, Sebastian.” I turn and storm toward my building.
Wait a minute.
I stop and look around the street before I march back to his car. “Where is your security?”
“Don’t fucking start.”
My eyes widen. “Are you stupid? You snuck away from your security guards?”
“I had to see you.”
“And now you have.” I hold my arms out wide in exasperation. “Go home, you idiot!”
Furious, I turn and march toward my building. This man is the living end. What next?
I’m so glad taxpayers’ money is funding his security team.
What an asshole.
I hear his car door slam, and the alarm beep, telling me he’s locked it.
I walk faster but he runs to keep up with me. “Will you wait?”
“No.” I march up the front steps and swipe my key. The doors open, and Sebastian is hot on my heels.
I walk into the elevator and turn toward the front. “If you don’t have anything worthwhile to say, Sebastian, don’t bother.” I’m wet and angry. This man is beyond infuriating.
With his cold eyes locked on mine, he gets into the elevator and turns to face the front, too. We ride to my floor in silence with adrenaline screaming through my veins.
Is my apartment a mess? I don’t even remember how I left it, and he hasn’t been here before.
Great.
I open the door with him standing behind me. I walk in and look around, relieved that it’s not as messy as I imagined it would be.
He remains silent.
If he’s here and wanting to talk, he’d better make it worthwhile.
“Do you have something to say?” I ask.
He stares at me for a moment. “Where were you tonight?”
“I went out for dinner.”
“With who?”
“A friend. Don’t go there, Sebastian. Not after what you’ve done this week. Don’t you dare.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He gasps.
“You deny it?”
“Deny what?”
Seriously?” I drop my head into my hands. Honestly, this is pointless. “Just go home.”
When I look up, his eyes search mine. He seems unsure what to say. So lost and sad.
“Seb,” I sigh.
His lips twist, like he’s holding something in.
Empathy fills me. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he’s struggling with whatever it is.
“Are you going to say something?” I ask softly.
He looks around the room, unable to make eye contact.
“Sebastian,” I urge. “Look at me.”
His hands are clenched into fists by his sides, and he drags his eyes to meet mine. “Don’t give up on me,” he whispers.
I get a lump in my throat, “You gave up on me.”
We stare at each other.
“I just—”
“Did it work… sleeping with her? Are you over me now?”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
I roll my eyes. “Please,” I mutter under my breath.
“I stayed at another hotel so that I wouldn’t get on my knees and beg you.”
“Beg me for what?”
“For you to feel the same as I do!” he cries as if outraged.
“And how is that?” I scoff. “I’m not a mind reader, Sebastian. Stop talking in riddles.”
“You think I like this?” He throws his arms in the air “I hate being like this, and I hate that I fucking care about you.”
I frown, surprised. Okay…not what I was expecting him to say. “When you didn’t come home…”
He screws up his face in disgust. “How the hell could I sleep with someone else, April, when you’re all I can fucking think about? I let you assume that because I knew it would make you walk away.”
“Why is this so hard?” I whisper. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“I don’t know.”
I step toward him, and he takes a step back as if I’m some wild animal. I know for certain that if I want this to work, I have to step up and help him. He can’t do this alone. He’s broken. Maybe more than I am, and that’s a lot.
I hate his ex-wife for what she’s done to him.
“Seb,” I say softly. “You’re looking into this too much. You need to stop thinking about the past… or the future. There is no pressure or expectation between us.”
He cups my cheek, and his scared eyes hold mine.
“Just think about now, because that’s all we have,” I tell him.
His chest rises and falls.
“If you want us to have a chance, you need to talk to me,” I whisper.
“You don’t want to know the fucked-up shit that’s in my head.”
Emotion overwhelms me, and suddenly, I do. I want to know everything about this beautiful man. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
There’s a feeling between us. A closeness. An understanding.
Fear.
I sit down onto the couch, not sure what to say, and he sits opposite me. He places his elbows on his knees and drops his head as he wrings his hands together. He’s clearly stressed out.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask.
He nods.