I sucked in a breath, ready to tell him this was the worst place to strangle me and also, what happened back there with the raisins and why was a single thumb destroying my ability to function in the most basic sense?
I would've said this. I really would have, but a snarl sounded in his throat and something was decided, something irrevocable, because he brushed his lips over mine and it was like unplugging a radio. The noise stopped, leaving only his irritable, hungry growls and our mingled breaths and the clomp of my heart.
I locked my arms around his neck and climbed him like a flood was about to carry me away. There was no way of knowing whether that was my best or worst moment to date. It could've gone either way but now I knew how that pout tasted.
That counted for something, even if this was a slow-falling tragedy in action. He kissed his way along my jaw and down my throat to tuck a finger under the neck of my t-shirt. "This shirt," he growled, "is fucking perfect."
I had to force my eyes open and blink down at my chest. I didn't know which shirt I was wearing any more than I knew what the hell was happening between us or why I found it necessary to wrap my legs around his trim waist.
"'Heal with cold steel,'" he read, tracing a finger over the pair of scalpels crossed under a skull. "Love it." He dropped a kiss to my sternal notch. "Where do you get these shirts?"
As if there was any confusion about which shirts he was referring to, he ran a hand over my breasts, bunching the cotton in his fist as he kissed me again.
"Why do you want to know?"
"So I can stop thinking about it."
He sighed against my lips though I knew immediately it wasn't one of his usual sighs of aggravation. No, this sigh was laced with misery, with pain.
I was a second away from attending to all that misery before a door slammed a few flights above. We jolted apart as if we'd been stunned, scattering to opposite corners of the landing. I swallowed up a heavy blink of Sebastian adjusting himself before I whirled around to face the wall.
I managed two shuddering gasps before his hands landed on my shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"For what?" I tried to straighten my shirt but my hands didn't work anymore.
He breathed a sigh as shaky as I felt. "Fuck if I know but—"
"Just stop. Okay? That's what I want. I want this to stop and"—I rubbed my temples against the sudden onslaught of competing thoughts—"this isn't happening. It'snot."
His hands fell from my shoulders. The second he was gone, I wanted him back. "Message received."
I heard him back up and then jog down to the next level. His hands connected with the door, the hinges squealing. I pressed my fingertips to my lips. My body was shaking from the inside out. I hadn't felt this torn and out of control in a decade. Maybe longer. I didn't know how to fix it but I knew I had to.
We couldn't keep doing this.
Chapter11
Sebastian
Fuck my life.
No, seriously, just fuck my whole life.
I couldn't go another round with Sara. Not tonight, not this weekend, not ever. I was not capable of managing all the things she stirred up inside me while also being a semifunctional adult. I could do Sara or I could do life, but definitely not both.
Most of the time, I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat. That I wanted to do this while fucking her didn't improve the situation.
Since I couldn't cope with another hallway encounter right now, I ducked out of the hospital early and avoided the apartment building altogether. After a subway ride into Cambridge and a short walk from the station, I was standing on Nick's doorstep.
I'd texted him on the way so this wasn't a completely unannounced demand for food and shelter but I accepted his barely tolerant stare with a shrug.
"If you don't want people coming over, you shouldn't be so welcoming," I said.
He shut the door behind me, saying, "Somehow I doubt that's the issue."
I followed him into the kitchen where his wife Erin was seated at the long farmhouse table with her laptop and a pile of folders. She patted the empty spot beside her. "Who's bothering you today, Sebastian?"
I dropped down into the chair and rested my head on my upturned palm. "Everyone."
