Seb rolls his eyes. “Let’s settle this right now, Mrs. Everett. How much does Ms. Willow owe you if she’s out by May first?” A lock of his hair falls over his forehead, and I think I might swoon.
“$1,500”
Seb sets my bag down and pulls his wallet out of his pocket.
“I shouldn’t owe that much money!” I protest. “My lease is up at the end of the month.”
Mrs. Everett raises a wrinkled eyebrow. “No notice.”
“Your notice was me not signing the new lease.”
She shrugs again.
Seb counts fifteen crisp hundreds into her hand. I have never seen that much cash in one wallet. What sort of person even carries that kind of money around with them? My anxiety peaks. Seb is a partner at Full Throttle. I did my research and confirmed who he is. But does he do drugs on the side? Hire prostitutes? Why would someone, who should easily be able to rock a platinum Amex, carry so much cash?
“Zoe?” He’s staring up at me from the first-floor landing, my suitcase tucked under his arm, the door to the stairwell propped open. Mrs. Everett disappears through the door to my left to her second-floor apartment.
“Coming,” I say, pretending to adjust my shoe before jogging to his side. Damn it, Zoe. What have you gotten yourself into?
I get even more nervous when he sets my bag and my guitar in the back seat of a Ford Maverick, then holds the passenger door open for me. I stare inside. It’s clean enough, new enough; it just seems odd.
“What’s wrong?” he asks when he sees me hesitate.
“I guess I just don’t expect someone who carries $1500 in cash in his wallet to drive a Ford Maverick. Or maybe I do, and that’s the problem. Who exactly are you, Sebastian? Why do you carry so much cash? What do you plan to do to me now that I’m at your mercy?”
He laughs and moves closer until I can feel the heat of his body. “This isn’t my car,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s my…housekeeper’s. And I don’t usually carry this much cash, but, as I mentioned, it’s really dangerous to be a dragon these days. That’s why we need your help. I can’t leave a trail, even a credit card transaction. Not now.”
“Because you’re being hunted by the Order.”
His eyes become slivers, like he’s surprised I know about the Order and a little suspicious. He glances down at my hands coupled in front of my waist.
“I asked around after the first time I met you. My mother told me some things.”
He helps me into the truck. “I will tell you everything you want to know, as soon as we’re safely back at the house.”
Chapter Eleven
SEB
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Everything about Zoe is as intoxicating as the finest wine. As I slip behind the wheel, her scent fills the cab of the truck, a combination of clean linen, fresh-cut pear, and clementine. It might as well be pure pheromones. I’d been attracted to her before, but this is off the charts and highly unusual. I’ve got to pull myself together.
“Seb, are you okay? You’re sweating.”
I laugh and roll up my shirt sleeves, running a finger along the inside collar of my shirt and unbuttoning the next button. “It’s a little hot,” I mumble.
My dragon wants her. Wants her like he’s never wanted anyone. A delicious daydream fills my head of what it would feel like to grab that tiny waist of hers, pull her over to my side of the cab so she was straddling me, and show her exactly what it’s like to be with a dragon.
Mine.
No, no, no, no, I tell my inner dragon. Alignment or not, Zoe Willow is not mate material for so many reasons.
Mine, my inner dragon insists.
I swallow and turn the key in the ignition.
