Page 37 of Sterling Heat

Even if we are only friends.

On that note, his phone rings, and he quickly answers.

“Hey.” His greeting sounds agitated, hesitant even. He side-eyes me and I’m wondering if I should give him privacy when he presses off the couch.

“Just about to watch a movie.” He rounds the couch, holds up a finger to me and heads toward his bedroom.

For some reason, his explanation to whomever he’s speaking with stings. There’s no clarification that he’s with me, not that he needs to quantify that he’s watching a movie with me, but it feels dismissive. I also don’t like that finger hold, putting me on pause.

The motion is very reminiscent of Lance, a man who put me on hold for eleven years.

Shaking my head, I will away all negative thoughts about a man I don’t want to think about. For too many years, I was a presence in someone’s life but not his priority. I promised myself I’d never live without being acknowledged again. If I’m going to be in someone’s life, I need to be in it. Not a bystander. Not a minor character. Not second to everything else.

Sebastian has put my needs first in many regards. However, I’m not a priority for him, as I shouldn’t be. Our living together is temporary. His daily existence in mine and Adara’s life is only momentary.

Quickly, he returns to the couch.

“If you want to go out, you can.” My haughty tone is unwarranted and I clear my throat. “I mean, don’t let me hold you back if you have friends . . . or someone . . . wanting to see you.”

“Enya.” Sebastian has already tossed himself back into position in his corner. He reaches for the remote, settling back into position with outstretched legs and crossed ankles.

“I told you when I moved in, I don’t want to cramp your style.”

“You’re not cramping anything. I don’t have a style.” He hitches his arm on the rest beside him and tilts his head toward me.

“You’re an attractive man and I’m sure ladies line up for a sample.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Did you just call me attractive? Why does that word feel icky?”

“What’s wrong with the word attractive?”

“It makes me feel old. Like saying I have a nice personality.”

“You do have a nice personality.”

“Ugh.” He tips his head back before springing it upward and turning it toward me. “I’m not nice.”

“You’re super nice,” I counter, surprised that he thinks he’s not.

“I am not.”

“You are, too.” I shift in a way my entire body faces him. With my legs crisscrossed, the armrest supports my back.

“Sugar,” he growls as we stare at one another.

“What?” Our eyes lock. Suddenly, I see the not-so-nice part of him. Not menacing. Not mean. Just flames of temptation that I want to incinerate me.

“Don’t say I’m nice.” His voice drops deep and demanding. So cute when he’s all scowling and irritated.

And I’m not good at being told what to do as I age. Chewing at my lower lip, I mutter. “You’re so nice.” All day. Every day. The husky sound of my voice isn’t one I recognize but I like it.

He springs like a lion, startling me as I’m suddenly caged in with his arms balanced on the rest behind me. He towers over my body, hovering, heaving. His face is so close to mine I breathe in each exaggerated breath he takes. With my back arched, my breasts brush against his chest, the tease is torture to my sensitive nipples, which peak within my bra.

“I am not nice.” His mouth cricks up in the corner, fighting a grin while he peers down at me. His biceps flinch in my peripheral view. His thick arms cage me in, and I want him to close the distance, lower over me, cover me with the blanket of his body.

“Hmm.” I disagree. He’s so very nice with that vanilla and motor oil scent and a hint of cinnamon on his breath. His eyes are the color of cool flames, sparked to life and on the brink of boiling over.

Slowly, that grin he’s fighting grows larger and I’m stunned. A spell is cast, although there’s not a single thing I fear from this man. But that smile is deadly. Wide mouth. White teeth. I want a taste of him, and I lick my lips, eager for my own sample. A second helping I didn’t get when I left his bakery the first time.