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I bite the inside of my cheek, trying my best to seem cool and composed when in reality, I’m anything but. How mortifying is it that Sebastian Black, a world-famous rockstar and probably the baddest boy on the planet, knows that I’m still a virgin?
“Fine, yes.”
“It’s a date.” Sebastian takes a step back. “I’ll pick you up tonight.”
Wait… what?
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
SEBASTIAN
My phone buzzes just as I’m closing the door to my apartment. My back turns rigid as the sound dies down as quickly as it started, signaling I’ve gotten a text. Slowly, I slide my hand into my pocket, pulling it out. Trepidation is rising in my throat like it does ever since the first time I’ve gotten the message.
Since then, I’ve gotten two other texts from the same person, each escalating slightly in tone. I already ordered a new sim card, but it hasn’t arrived yet.
But it’s not an unknown number this time.
It’s my mother, which is worse, in a way.
Mom:
Don’t you think it’s time to get back home? People depend on you.
For a split second, I come to a stop debating if I should answer her. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that she’d try to guilt trip me into coming back. It was her MO, and I knew there was no way she’d give up once she started, but I didn’t want to deal with her multiple questions. Not right now.
Guilt twists my stomach as I silence my phone and slide it back in place, lifting my head to look at the door across the hall. Shaking my head, I cross the distance and lift my hand to knock.
The silence lasts for a moment, but then I can hear the sound of light footsteps and paws scraping against the hardwood before the door opens, and Penny’s face appears in the gap between the door, those violet, doe-like eyes staring at me.
“Hey,” I say, my voice coming out coarse.
“Oh, it’s you.”
My brows shoot up. “Did you expect somebody else?”
“Well, no.”
Unhooking the chain, she opens the door further, and I’m left staring at her. Because damn.
She’s changed since earlier, exchanging one of the endless summer dresses she usually wears for a lacy skirt and a plain white tank top. She also did something different with her hair. It’s pulled to one side with a few unruly strands curling around her face; a little bow ties everything up like a pretty little package just waiting to be unwrapped.
“Bash?” She tilts her head to the side, one of the locks brushing against the side of her face. I rub my fingers together, resisting the itch to reach out and tuck it back.
“Yeah?”
“Are we going?”
“I—” Need to stop staring at her like a flustered middle schooler. “Yeah, but…”
She turns over my shoulder. “Henry, ha—”
“He can’t come,” I say quickly, remembering my plan.
She turns back to me, a little bit of uncertainty showing on her face. “What?”
I give her one last glance, already regretting the next words I’m about to say. “And you’ll need to change. This won’t work.”
“What’s wrong with this?” She points at herself, her brows pulling together.
