Regardless, it’s impossible to ignore the way he’s looking at me. Like he wants to eat me alive. For all I know, I’m hallucinating, but I don’t think so. I can tell when someone is imagining me naked and Sebastian isdefinitelyimagining me naked.
My cock wakes up at that. It’s surprising considering my meds make it difficult sometimes. Then again, my dick was always in overdrive around my stepbrother.
He’s just so infuriatingly, effortlesslygorgeous.
NO.I’m not falling into his trap just for him to abandon me again. Fuck that and fuck him. He gets the silent treatment.
A few minutes later, we’re pulling into the neighborhood.
My fingers shake from the coffee— or nerves. I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s gotta be the caffeine. And nicotine.
The old truck’s tires crunch on the gravel drive. Sebastian shifts into park and cuts the engine, leaving the keys dangling from the ignition.
“You never visited,” I blurt.
So much for giving him the cold shoulder.
He sighs. “I couldn’t, darlin.”
Should’ve kept my big mouth shut. I hug myself and shrink into the seat.
“Don’t call me that.”
He has the audacity to look wounded. “Cade…”
“No. Fuck you.”
Shaking his head, he gets out of the truck.
He’s just gonna leave it like that? Leave me here? No fight?
Suddenly, my door opens. I barely catch myself from tumbling right into his muscular chest.
Then my sunglasses are ripped off.
“Hey!”
Rough, callused fingers grip my jaw, tilting my head up to stare directly into warm brown eyes.
“If I visited, I would’ve taken you home with me and you weren’t ready.” His thumb creeps toward my lip, then stops. His jaw flexes like he’s restraining himself.
My teeth grind. “You didn’t even call.”
Not that I had my phone, but it's the principle.
He levels a stern glare. “You know sure as shit it would’ve ended the same.”
“Idon’tknow that because you didn’t fuckingtalkto me,” I hiss, clinging to anger like a life raft. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t believe you. You’ve given me no reason to.”
Frustration simmers in his gaze. “Cade?—”
I make my move, tearing from his grasp and climbing over the center console into the driver's seat. Cranking the truck back to life, I shift into reverse.
“Son of a bitch,” Sebastian growls.
“Got that right,” I sneer and slam on the gas. The truck lurches, spraying gravel as it shoots backward. With another muttered curse, Sebastian stumbles, the passenger side door swinging wide open.
“CADE!” he roars, charging after me way faster than a two-hundred-plus-pound guy should.
