Page 32 of Drawn Together

“Breakfast is the most important…”

“Meal of the day, I know,” I said, finishing his sentence. “But I prefer to sleep as long as possible.”

“That says a lot about you.”

“That I’m charming, for example?” I laughed at my own joke, since he wasn’t going to do it, and sat back down at the kitchen island.

He finished making the pancakes, which were apparently all for me, then leaned against the counter, coffee in hand.

“Eat,” he barked with a glacial stare.

“Don’t you get bored being here all day with me?”

“It’s my job.”

“And why did you decide to become a bodyguard?”

Ignoring my question, Sebastian walked over to the cupboard, picked up a glass, and filled it with water before returning to his original spot.

“How are the pancakes?”

I chewed slowly as I openly observed him.

“Delicious. Do you not like questions?”

“Do you not get tired of talking all the time? A little silence is nice sometimes.”

I pretended to consider his question.

“No, I don’t ever get tired of talking. Silence is boring. Why did you decide to become a bodyguard?”

Sebastian stared blankly at me, then took a step forwardand, resting his palms on the counter, bent his head slightly to look me in the eye. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you…”

I felt a shiver as I contemplated whether he was being serious. My mind went blank, and I responded with the first thought that popped into my head.

“With kisses?”

Sebastian blinked in disbelief and sat back down.

“Marfil, just eat.”

I smiled, pleased with myself. “Doesn’t your girlfriend miss you? You’re here all day with me, the poor thing must be going crazy,” I said casually, waving my fork and congratulating myself for being so subtle in my desperate attempt to get information out of this man.

Sebastian surprised me with a faint smile. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Don’t worry—no one is missing me.”

Inside, I was dancing the conga.

“I’m just a good person like that, concerning myself with people I don’t even know.”

“Right,” he said, taking out his cell phone and glancing at the screen.

An interesting idea then popped into my head. “Technically, Sebastian… your job is to take care of me, right?” He didn’t answer, so I went on, “But if I could take care of myself, that would make your job easier, right?”

“I don’t like where you’re going with this.”

I set my mug down on the counter and looked at him very seriously. “I didn’t like what happened last night with Regan.”

“I’ll say it again: It’s my job.”