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Sebastian: It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up in an hour.
Me: What about me makes you think I like surprises?
Sebastian: You like me. Hopefully, that’s enough. He added a winky-face emoji and I couldn’t lie, my heart sped up.
Sebastian: As a friend! You like me as a friend! Stop freaking out.
It was alarming that he knew me well enough to realize I would have been stressed out. I shoved that bit of information to the back of my brain and locked it away right where it belonged. Being friends with Sebastian Cole was a mistake, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from making it.
* * *
I was waiting outside an hour later when Sebastian pulled up. It wasn’t technically a parking area, so I jumped into the passenger seat and he immediately drove away.
Sebastian said, “Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m worried my idea is stupid. This is likely something you’re not interested in, or if you are, you’ve probably done it a hundred times already.”
“I think you’re overestimating how often I do things outside of work or hanging out with the guys.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Okay, so maybe this is something you’re not interested in or your friends dragged you to it like five times.”
“That’s a big jump from a hundred.”
“You’re right. I forgot who I was talking to and that you don’t do a lot.”
“Asshole. What happened to you being a nice guy?” Really, it blew my mind that he was stressing out so much over how I felt about what we did today. The way he made it sound was as if he had planned the day for me, and why the fuck would he do that?
“It was a ploy to get you to hang out with me. Now that I’ve got you in my grasp, there’s no escaping.” He waggled his brows as he turned onto Wilshire Blvd.
“You’ve misjudged my ability to cut myself off from the world,” I joked, but Sebastian frowned. “What?”
“It just hits me hard when you say things like that. In some ways, I see it, and that sucks because you’re a great guy with a lot to offer people. But on the other hand, you believe you want to be left alone more than you actually do.”
“Wow, you’re an expert on me,” I joked.
“Ha-ha. Brat.”
I was processing what he said, trying to sort through it, putting different parts into different boxes to dissect later, when his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and groaned. “What?” I asked because it was a lot easier than dealing with the can of worms he’d opened.
“Nothing. Neil has been trying to call me. I ignore it, but that doesn’t stop him.”
I bit back a growl that rumbled deep in my chest. Fuck that guy. What the hell kind of man fucked his partner’s friend in their bed? And then had the nerve to continue to try and get in touch with him?
“Wow…” Sebastian said.
“Wow what?”
“That was hot.” When I gave him a look I hoped asked what the fuck he was talking about, Sebastian chuckled. “You snarled. Sexy. We’re here.”
I looked away from him to see him turning toward the parking garage at the Getty. I had actually only been to this art museum once in my life. Corbin had asked me to go with him. I couldn’t remember why he had to go, but it had been me he’d asked to accompany him because he knew I was interested in art and I wouldn’t have gone by myself. I’d grumbled the whole time as if I hadn’t enjoyed it, when really, I had. And now I had to work through the fact that Sebastian was taking me here, that he’d specifically chosen the day with me in mind, and…
“You hate it?” he asked as he parked. “I have no idea what kind of art you’re into. You just mentioned you used to draw, so I thought you might enjoy it. If you don’t want to go, we can do something else. There are so many things in and around LA I’ve never done. When I first moved here I was too broke. And then I was too busy. How sad is that?”
He seemed really disappointed, as if he’d done something wrong. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. There are a shit ton of things I haven’t done and for no good reason.”
“Have you been here?”
Jesus, I wanted to open my mouth and lie to him. I wanted to tell him I hadn’t just because I hoped it would make him feel better, that he would be happy he’d chosen this. Because the truth was, regardless of whether I’d gone, it was cool that he had me in mind when he’d made plans for today. “Once,” I said, opting for the truth. “But it’s art, so every time is like the first.”
