“I’m just saying we should get the pool table before she changes her mind.” Drew’s tone holds a hint of pleading.
“And I’m saying I don’t trust her. She’s up to something. Just buy another one.”
“Buy another one? I don’t have that kind of money.”
Sebastian whips around with a scowl. “Just let her have the damn thing so you don’t continue to be at her mercy. I’ll buy a new damn pool table for you.”
Drew’s legs nearly slide out beneath him as he sits hard on the couch. “But I can’t pay you back. Not with the divorce.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not worried about it.”
“Really?”
Sebastian sits on the opposite couch, his body turned toward his brother. “Yes. In fact, we can go get one now.”
“Now?”
Sebastian’s snort cuts him off. “Yes, Drew. Right now.” He stares at his brother for a beat. “Live alittle.”
Drew looks uncomfortable, his eyes on the floor.
Come on, Drew.
Your brother’s right.
And considering Sebastian’s wound tighter than a knotted spool of yarn, that says something.
The image of him working that tension off using my body practically has me licking the glass.
Focus. You don’t want to get caught.
When Drew looks up, awe, tinged with excitement, lines his face. “Yeah. You’re right. I can live a little.”
“That’s the spirit.” Sebastian stands, and I can’t help but notice how good those dark jeans look on his ass and legs. “Come on. Let’s go.”
I barely hear Drew because I’ve inched out from the plant and am busy staring?—
Shit.
Sebastian turns, and I practically jump behind the potted plant.
The leaves on the fake tree sway. I’m sweating, praying he assumes it’s from the non-existent breeze outside, and doesn’t check the patio.
You may need to dive over the railing and run like he did last night. Except maskless. And without tripping over a trash can.
The thought of me running across his yard like he did mine makes the butterflies flap in my stomach.
Sebastian doesn’t open the door. Instead, he heads toward the garage, Drew following him.
Once the door closes, I slip inside the house, breathing in his scent. I sit on the couch where Sebastian had just been sitting like a dog clinging to its owner’s warmth and scent.
I remain there for a while, basking in the quiet comfort of his house.
Then I get up and walk around, my fingers trailing over the familiar coffee machine. I open cabinet drawers, the refrigerator, and even the oven, memories filling my head.
I make sure everything is the way I found it before walking down the hallway to the bathroom. Sebastian rarely uses this one. Even so, I feel his essence everywhere.
I check out his home office, sitting in his chair and spinning around a few times. I stare out the window, wondering what he thinks when he looks at the trail in the woods. Does he remember the night he followed me and walked me home?
