Page 9 of Drawn Together

I sighed and made my way over to the fridge. I should’ve gone grocery shopping days ago. There was absolutely nothing in the apartment—even the toilet paper had run out.

As I put on my sneakers, I began to make a mental note of everything I needed from the store. It wasn’t cold enough for my big jacket, so I left it on the hook and grabbed my bag. Once at the door, I paused for a few seconds. Did I have to tell him I was going to the store? It was only a block away…

My instincts told me I should let him know.

I walked down the hall and timidly knocked on his door.

This was so strange.

He opened it a few seconds later, casually leaning on the wall with one arm and slightly holding the door ajar with his other, as if intentionally keeping me from peeking inside. I couldn’t help but take him all in, from his rolled-up sleeves to his right arm covered in tattoos to the thick, black-framed glasses, which made him look intellectual and caused my brain to temporarily short-circuit.

I was painfully aware that by staring like this, I was becoming the same kind of objectifier I despised, but he had me completely spellbound. Besides, it wasn’t like I knew much else about him.

Clearing my head, I forced myself to focus. “I need to go to the store to pick up a few things.”

Sebastian nodded. “Give me just a second, please.”

He turned around, and I took the opportunity to glance into the room. It looked nothing like the storage dump it had been a week ago. Granted, all I could see from the doorway was a black leather chair and a pretty white rug, but still. I watched as Sebastian sat down in front of an open laptop, typed something quickly, and then closed it with a frown.

Had I interrupted something important?

“Right behind you,” he said, snapping me out of my trance.

Outside, on the street, it felt very strange to have him walking beside me. My father’s security guards had always either walked behind him or out in front of him. But Sebastian did so right next to me, as if he were my friend.

“Is it always going to be like this?” I asked as we entered the small supermarket.

“Is what going to be like this, Marfil?”

Hearing him pronounce my name sparked too many emotions to ignore, although I did everything possible to go on talking as if the guy next to me in the shampoo, makeup, and tampon aisle was just some regular guy. Tampons… shit, I needed those, too.

Was I going to have to buy tampons in front of him?

“Like, you always with me even when I just need to go to the deli.”

“Yes,” he answered curtly.

I looked at him, annoyed by his response.

I grabbed shampoo and toilet paper but left the tamponsbehind, then pushed the cart over to the wine section. I picked up a bottle of white and put it in the cart. Sebastian didn’t say a word, so I continued shopping, picking up a pack of Heineken and then stopping in the fruit section. As I carefully selected some strawberries and apples, it dawned on me that Sebastian would have to eat, too.

I was about to say his name when I noticed his eyes were fixed on the shop entrance. I looked in that direction. Two guys, more or less his age, had just entered.

“Do you need anything?” I asked him.

“What?” he replied, now facing me, distracted.

“Food. There’s nothing in the apartment unless you get it delivered.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of my own meals.”

I shrugged and continued filling my cart with potato chips, olives, milk, sugar, and a pie from the bakery section. As I waited in line to pay, I noticed that Sebastian had not stopped scanning the place the entire time; his eyes had never been still. His presence was more imposing than any bodyguard my father had ever had, and as the cashier eyed him suspiciously, it dawned on me that with his body like a Greek god, he probably made other people wary.

I looked at his black suit pants and white shirt. How the hell was I going to take him to school with me looking like that?

After I paid for the groceries using my father’s Centurion card—or rather, my extension of it—Sebastian picked up my bags and carried them in his right hand, leaving his left free. I hadn’t bought that much, but there were some bottles and other heavy items. I offered to help him, but he refused with a simple shake of the head.

My mind raced as we headed back. There were so many things I wanted to know about him. That was why I’d never likedbodyguards; it was impossible for me to be around another person without talking to them. As a little girl, before being sent away to school, my nannies would have to change shifts hourly because I was so exhausting. Or so my father told me when listing his reasons for sending me to boarding school abroad.