Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
He looks like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. He finishes his drink and then reaches for his wallet.
“I can buy lunch,” I offer. “After all, I kind of ruined your day.” He cocks a brow and doesn’t answer me. Instead he puts some cash down on the table, more than enough to pay for both of us.
“I said I can get this one,” I tell him and reach for the cash to shove it back to him, but he snatches my wrist. Electricity shoots through me, the desire returning with a blazing force.
He releases me slowly and I bring my wrist back to me, staring at it as if it’s been singed. I’m reeling in the shivers that flow through my body.
“I pay,” is all he says, with a forcefulness that spikes desire through me. I can’t break his gaze, I can’t speak.
“I want to,” he adds in a gentler tone.
“How do you do this to me?” I ask him, but then I think of a different question. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want to.” He uses the same intensity as before, but somehow his words come out softer, almost comforting. The tension is thick between us and I wonder if he feels the same pull I do. “Why did you come to see me?” he asks me, and the question breaks the spell, my eyes falling to the table and the realization that the lunch is over. That this moment is only temporary, just like Sebastian’s presence in my life.
“Because I wanted to,” I offer him a similar response, shrugging and then pulling up the baggy sleeves to my t-shirt. How is it that hours have passed, and I’ve only just now realized I’m in my pajamas? I didn’t even bother to put on mascara. I always put on mascara, I look so much younger without it.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re doing this?” I ask him again, feeling irritated by everything, especially my reaction to the series of events that happened today.
“I just wanted to have a nice meal with you.” Hearing those words from him makes me smile and let out a short laugh. My mirth doesn’t wane when he looks at me with confusion, instead, it only makes me grin harder. Maybe I truly am crazy.
“What’d I say?” he asks, and I just shake my head, taking a peek at him while lowering my lips to have a sip of Coke from the straw.
I let the bubbling fizz relax me and then straighten myself to tell him, “Just the thought of you having a nice lunch and then heading off to your nine-to-five job.”
The charming grin grows on his face, revealing his perfect white teeth. “Don’t you know I’m a hardworking, blue-collar type of man?”
I hold his gaze and keep my smile in place as I tell him, “I know who you are, Sebastian Black.”
My taunting doesn’t get me the reaction I’m after. Instead, he slips his mask back into place, hiding from me.
My next breath is accompanied by a long stretch and then I take another drink. A coldness sets in between us. I can feel it coming. It used to come so often when we were forced to be together. The moment he knew he’d let me in, he’d shut it down.
I should have known better than to think it would last. Maybe I didn’t think it would, but I sure as fuck want it to.
“Something is truly wrong with me,” I speak the thought without conscious consent.
“You’re a product of your environment,” Sebastian answers me. He sinks back against the booth and stares at me long and hard. The fake, thin leather protests as he watches the front door.
“I should get home,” I tell him, so we can end whatever this moment has been. “I’m sorry I came and…. decided to be crazy and vent to you.”
“I’m not.” He answers me the same way he did with paying for lunch. No nonsense, no bullshit. And the same response flows through my body. For years, in school and up till the day my uncle died, I wanted him to be like this with me. To just talk to me.
“Be careful what you say at the shop though,” he tells me and then adds, “people listen.” The tone in which he says it brings an uneasy feeling over me and with a tightness in my throat, I start to tell him I’m sorry, but he cuts me off.
“Just so you know for next time.” The softness to him, it does something to me I can’t explain. Next time. As if I could have this moment again with him.
“You’re different,” I marvel at the revelation out loud.
“I’m not the one who’s different.”
“What do you mean?” I search his eyes for answers, wanting to know how he meant me to take that statement. Needing to know.