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I chuckle in response, knowing that he’s heard all of that from Meghan. His gaze slides to something over my shoulder, causing his eyes to narrow a fraction. If I wasn’t looking at his face—to avoid looking at a certain someone—I’d have missed it.
“We also like handsome men that appear unattainable. Although, I’ve never had one give the person I’m just talking to a death stare while another woman clings to him.” There’s a hint of curiosity in his tone as he flicks his gaze over my shoulder again.
My brow furrows at his statement and I glance over my shoulder to see exactly what he’s just described. Sebastian stands with a tight grip on the bottle in his hand, his eyes focused on me and Ben while his date begs for his attention beside him.
With a shrug, I turn back to Ben and say, “He’s nobody.”
Keep telling yourself that, Alex.
“He’s not looking at you like he's nobody to you. I mean, it’s kind of hot. You know, he’s got the whole alpha male, possessive thing down. I can practically see his white knuckles from here.” Ben chuckles, pulling his gaze back to me.
“If you must know, we hooked up a couple of times.” I shrug, as if it’s no big deal and take a sip of my beer. “Sorry to disappoint, but there’s not much more to the story than that I’m afraid.”
“Okay. I’m going to need more details. Especially because he looks like he’s ready to come over here and beat the crap out of me.” He leans in, his breath skating across my ear, as he asks, “Should I flirt with you to make him jealous?”
Throwing my head back, I let out a loud belly laugh, oblivious to the looks we’re drawing.Oh, God, that’s hilarious. I couldn’t make Sebastian jealous, even if I tried.
As my laughter dies down, I look at Ben, who is staring down at me with a huge toothy grin spread across his face. “No, you don’t need to do that. It wouldn’t work, anyway.” I smile back at him.
He holds out his arm for me, and I take it as he walks us toward the back of the garden.
“Come. Let’s go out of earshot from little ears, and you can give me all the details. Emphasis on all,” Ben mutters, as he leads the way.
And I do just that. I share all the details of my mistakes with Sebastian to a complete stranger. In my defense, he’s very easy to talk to, and he gives me some brilliant advice. By the end of the afternoon, I’ve made a new friend and planned a night out the following weekend.
* * *
Ben and Meghan try to convince me that Sebastian’s eyes haven't left me for most of the afternoon. Every time Meghan and Ben bring him up, I change the subject or reply with what I hope is a sense of indifference as I ignore the warmth that pools in the pit of my stomach at the thought of him being that obsessed with what I’m up to.
Truth be told, I’m exhausted with the up and down emotions he has me feeling whenever he’s near or occupying my thoughts.
When they tell me he’s put his date in a cab back to New York, I still don’t bite. It shouldn’t interest me what he does or doesn’t do. No man, no matter how good he makes you feel in bed, is worth the headache or heartache he causes.
Or at least that’s what I thought.
TWO
Alex
It’s been a long week by the time Saturday rolls around, and having worked at least sixty hours, I’m ready to let my hair down and party. On weeks like this, I question my life choices and why I chose to get into property law in the first place.
Being good at my job has its benefits, like the high salary I managed to negotiate when I took on additional responsibility at the firm I work for—Jackson and Partners in Lower Manhattan. The not so great aspect is the amount of clients that ask for you by name and refuse to deal with anyone else.
As I enter my apartment, I throw my keys on the small console table by the front door, kicking off my heels and breathing a sigh of relief. It’s the best feeling in the world to take off a pair of heels I’ve been in since seven this morning. I live in a modest two-bedroom apartment in a building that has great security and, unlike my old building, a working elevator.
When you walk in the front door you step right into the living room that’s decorated in mostly neutral tones. The kitchen is separated by a breakfast bar, and next to that is the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and bathroom.
Standing front and center in the living room, in all its bright pink glory, is my couch. As much as it’s calling my name to lie down and binge watch a show, I’ve got to get ready. I dump my bag on the floor by the door and walk down the hallway to my bedroom, bypassing the family pictures that line the walls.
My gray, four-poster bed with a white fluffy duvet and a mountain of pillows, is the statement piece in my bedroom. White bedside tables sit on either side with a matching chest of drawers under the window on one wall and a small walk-in closet on the wall opposite.
Much like the couch,I feel like my bed is calling to me. With everything that’s been going on at work for the last few weeks, I’m feeling both physically and mentally exhausted.
My hands are on the hem of my sweater when the sound of my phone ringing from my bag in the hallway breaks through the silence. With a sigh, I walk back to my purse, rummaging through its contents until my hand grasps my battered phone.
Meghan’s name flashes on the screen and I connect the call with a smile on my lips.
“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Jackson. Has Mr. Jackson finally given you a break from all the fucking?”
