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What do you mean she doesn’t know?!
Alex said Meghan knows.
Cooper
It’s Meghan. I don’t know where she’s gone, but she’s a grown up and knows the city. I’m sure she’ll be fine.
I’m two seconds away from asking Meghan to check in with her and find out where she’s gone, but instead I chuck my phone onto the couch and go back to watching the TV.
That lasts for all of two seconds before I snatch up my phone and text a buddy of mine that works security at a few clubs in the city. I type out a message, then delete it. Scrubbing my hand over my jaw, I put my phone down and walk into the kitchen. I pour myself a drink of whiskey, throwing it back as my heart races, worry taking me over.
I can't just do nothing.
What if something happens to her?
My feet carry me back to the living room and when I swipe up my phone, my fingers fly across the screen. I don’t hesitate when I press send. The response I get back is almost immediate.
Jonah
Leave it with me.
I pace around the room as I wait. My eyes going to the clock on the TV as each minute ticks by. It’s no more than five minutes when Jonah texts me back, but it might as well have been five hours.
Jonah
She’s in Vixen. We’ll keep an eye on her.
Sebastian
Thank you.
I collapse onto the couch, relief causing me to sag. As I rest my head on the back of the couch, I berate myself for being so obsessed over this woman. Fuck. Alex and Meghan were right. She’s an adult and doesn’t need to tell me where she’s going or who with, but I can’t help but be concerned.
That’s the problem.
When it comes to her, or any woman for that matter, it’s not my place to be concerned.
She’s burrowing under my skin and making me feel things for her that I shouldn’t. I’ve never had this overwhelming feeling before. I should be pushing her away, not trying to pull her in.
She shouldn’t come to Lake Geneva with me.
But I need her.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, the pounding from earlier returning with full force.
* * *
Despite going to bed hours ago, it’s not until I hear Alex getting in at four in the morning that my shoulders relax and the knot that formed in my stomach eases.
With frustration at the situation I find myself in, I punch my pillow and turn over to try and get some sleep.
TWELVE
Alex
Sebastian knocks on my door at nine am and it sounds like a swat team is trying to get through. When I only groan and roll over—not because of the alcohol but the lack of sleep—he opens the door and sticks his head in, calling my name.
“Alex, you have an hour until we need to leave.”
