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“I’m not sure it did,” he answers coolly. “What did you think when you first read the note?”
“That you were brushing me off. Which is fine,” I tell him, even though it really isn’t. “I know how these things go. But you can’t just tell a girl that you’ll see her around and then buy her hundreds of dollars’ worth of groceries. It confuses things.”
“You’re confused because you mistook how I intended the note. I had to get to work—I had a meeting at nine that I just couldn’t miss—but the last thing I intended was for you to think I was playing with you yesterday.”
“Weren’t you?” The words are out before I know I am going to say them.
“Did it feel like I was playing?”
“It felt…” Intense. Terrifying. Important. But I can’t say any of those things so I settle on, “Good. It felt good.”
He snorts. “Talk about an insipid description of one of the most powerful experiences of my life. We’re a lot of things when we’re together, Aria, but good isn’t the first word that pops to mind.”
I know exactly what he means. “You can’t just buy me groceries.”
“Why not? You obviously needed some.”
“I’d planned on going to the store today,” I lie. “After I deposited my paycheck in the bank.” It’s not a total lie. I’d hoped to have enough money left after paying rent and my car payment to buy some sandwich stuff. Maybe a couple of cans of soup. Nothing like what Sebastian did.
“We both know that isn’t true,” he tells me.
It isn’t, but I bristle anyway. “You don’t get to say things like that to me!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s rude. Because we’re not together. Because I’m not some charity project for you to take care of!”
“I’m not sure who you’re insulting more with that diatribe—me or yourself. But let’s get one thing clear, Aria. I don’t think you’re a charity project. I think you’re a strong, beautiful, exciting woman who I am thrilled to have in my bed.”
“You’ve never had me in your bed.”
“That’s an oversight I plan on remedying as soon as possible.”
“Don’t I get some vote in that?”
“Let’s be honest. You’ll be the first one racing to my bed and we both know it.”
For a second, the jaw-dropping arrogance of that statement freezes me. Has me standing in the middle of the kitchen, mouth flapping open as I gape like a fish and search desperately for a comeback. Any comeback. But my brain is as frozen as the rest of me and all I can do is stare at the phone in my hand like it’s actually come alive.
“That didn’t come out right,” Sebastian says after a second.
“You think?”
“What I meant to say—what I should have said—is you are a beautiful, vibrant woman and there is little in the world I like more than making love to you. And because I like it so much, I plan on doing it as often as humanly possible—in and out of my bed. And based on your response yesterday, I think you feel the same way about me.”
“That you’re a beautiful, vibrant woman?”
He sighs. “That you want to spend as much time as possible fucking me.”
“You know, in the grand scheme of things, that really wasn’t much better than your first attempt.”
“Can you cut me a little slack? I’m not exactly running on a plethora of sleep here.”
“That’s because you snuck out in the middle of the night and went grocery shopping.”
“I did. And I’d do it again, even knowing that it upsets you.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say.”
