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It’s Sebastian.
Thought you were off today? Why at hospital? Everything all right?
By now, I’ve figured out that, of course, the Porsche he gave me to drive has tracking devices, air tags, etc. Being that it’s his car, I can’t accuse him of violating my privacy. I can always go back to driving the piece of crap I own.
Catching up on case notes. On my way back home.
Ok. See you soon.
I find myself doing a little more over the speed limit than I’d normally do. But I’m eager to see Bash. I thought about my conversation with Nick this morning. He said he’s never seen Bash this way with anyone before. But that he was between a rock and a hard place with the betrothal. Break it off and risk chaos or keep it and risk losing me.
He’s asked for my patience. Assured me that he wants no part of Natasha or any other woman for that matter. I believe him. His insistence that I spend every night with him suggests that he’s not even leaving any room for doubt.
Sure, it’s possible for him to get in a quicky every now and then, especially with that disgusting strip club his cousin Stieg owns. But I think the allure of the place has worn off and he’s had his fill of it. He’s ready for a more mature, substantial relationship with a woman whose most valuable skillset doesn’t involve dry-humping a metal pole.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling the Porsche into the garage. I make my way up the stairs, into our home.
Sebastian is in the kitchen, putting food from the local Indian takeout onto plates. He looks over his shoulder at me.
“Hi babe, I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving, now that you mention it,” I say in a jovial tone, nearly forgetting I’m supposed to be angry at him. I stop myself from going to him for a kiss. Instead, I walk over to the sink and wash my hands. “What do you have there?”
I see the hurt look he casts me.
Sorry, dude, but I’ve got to show a little reserve after last night’s fireworks. I’m still not thrilled to know he has a fiancée, regardless of whether it was against his will. In fact, I hate the idea.
On his way to the table, he kisses my cheek and then sets our plates down. I bring over the glasses of iced tea.
“So, were you able to get your case notes caught up?” he asks.
“Yes, and I had a chance to chat with Emma. She’s going to see if she can get me in on another cardio transplant this week.”
“That’s great.”
I chuckle. “I guess even on my days off I want her to know that’s all I have on the brain.”
He makes a pouty face, “I hope that’s not all you have on the brain. Try to squeeze me in every now and again.”
I start to respond that he’s always on my mind, but I’m not quite ready to pretend all is forgiven and forgotten. I offer a half-hearted smile. He’s going to have to work a little harder for more.
He takes a bite of his food and chews slowly. He finally sets his fork down. I feel his gaze upon me, willing me to look at him.
“I’ve found a peaceful way out my betrothal. In two weeks, it will be officially over. I swear, nothing like that will ever happen again.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “Really, how? Nick said it would be extremely difficult and not to pressure you about it.”
He looks at Nicks room. “Did he now?” He says nothing more but takes a sip of his iced tea.
“Babe, what happened to your hand?” The knuckles are red and raw.
He looks at them with mild amusement. “I let Sergei know I didn’t appreciate him upsetting you.”
“You hit him?”
He shrugs. “He’s fine, but he knows never to intrude into my personal life again.”
I’m both elated and disturbed by this news. Is this how he handles all of life’s difficulties. “So, how did you manage to extricate yourself from the engagement?”
