“Why am I in your shirt?”
“Because you decided to strip down the moment we walked through the door and asked me to fuck you on the foyer floor.”
Heat floods my cheek, “I did what now?”
“And when that didn’t work, and I took you into the bathroom to wash up, you tried to suck my cock.”
“Jesus Christ.”
He chuckles, “Then you started crying while I took your makeup off, so I put you in my shirt and tucked you into bed.”
“Good lord.” I hide my face in my hands to the sound of Sebastian’s chuckle, not recalling a single part of what he just told me.
“It’s okay, Red,” He stretches out like a cat in the sheets, “It’s good to know you still want me even when you’re out of your mind.”
I grab my pillow and toss it at his head before I make a break for the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me.
I use the toilet and turn toward the counter. Sure enough there’s a makeup-stained washcloth on my vanity unit and my face wash still on the side. My hair resembles a bird’s nest and there’s purple shadows beneath my eyes, my skin a little pale making the freckles on my skin appear even darker.
I try my best to keep thoughts of my mother from my mind, but truth be told I think about her damn near every day. I may have escaped her years ago and she may be long dead, but her lessons were a bone deep kind of education, the type you can’t forget even with therapy and years to heal.
You’re a mess, Willow Stanton, look at you. A ladyshould be presentable at all times.
“Yeah well,” I growl at my reflection, “Fuck you, mom.”
I turn my back to myself and switch on the shower, my teeth grinding together painfully as I push thoughts of her away. If only my father had taken me after the divorce, if only he had raised me, maybe I wouldn’t have the ghost of her haunting my every step.
She’s a curse, one that has no remedy, a poison without antidote.
I close my eyes and tilt my head toward the hot spray, letting the water stream over my face, washing away the grime from the night before and letting it take my memories with it. I tell myself every day that she’s gone, that the lessons are over and while it helps ease me, they always return sooner or later.
Not that anyone other than Olivia knows about my upbringing. And that’s okay, no one else needs to know and I certainly don’t want pity. Most see me as the girl with the silver spoon in her mouth, sitting on inheritance and a company in my name that’s run by a board so I never have to lift a finger and sure, I can’t complain about my life, but I can’t exactly jump for joy either. Not when the years to get here were so damn painful.
I wash my hair and give it a deep condition before I shut the shower off and return to the bedroom in just a towel. The bed is a mess of tangled sheets and askewpillows, but Sebastian is no longer in it.
Padding down the hall, I go in search of him, clutching the towel to my chest. I then find him in the kitchen, frying what smells like bacon at the cooker, a carton of eggs next to him.
“Thought you may be hungry,” He gives me a grin and I let my eyes drop down him, dressed only in his dress pants from the night before, the golden light of morning kisses every inch of him. His hair is adorably sleep mused, sticking up in areas while others have been flattened and the growth around his chin is thicker, less groomed.
“Starved,” I agree, crossing the space to perch on one of the stools at the kitchen island.
When the bacon is almost cooked, he starts scrambling the eggs, pouring the mixture into another pan and my stomach rumbles obnoxiously. Feeling useless I get back up while he finishes cooking to start making us coffee, this somewhat domestic routine feeling both oddly comforting and disconcerting all the same.
I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We eat in mostly silence with a few teases from Sebastian about how I tried to climb him like a tree – his words not mine and we’re almost done with breakfast when my cell rings.
I glance toward it, noting Olivia’s name on the screen.
Bast passes it over and I hit the green button, bringingit to my ear.
“Hey babe,” I answer chirpily.
“Don’t you ‘hey babe’ me,” She huffs, “You said you would text me when you got home!”
I laugh, “In my defense, I don’t even remember getting home.”
Oli laughs, “Oh good, me either. Kai apparently had to carry me.”
