“People hide it.”
“Honey, if I was sexually attracted to you, you’d know it.”
A relief that he’s so straightforward about it. Constantly having to read people for what they’re saying without saying it can get fucking exhausting. I deal with it enough already at work; I don’t want to do it in my off time.
“I don’t want him to have sex with someone else.” The words are out before I can even think about them. It doesn’t make them less true. Thinking of Kendrick with anyone else makes me want to commit murder. And I’d do it.
“I assume you’re talking about Kendrick.”
“Who else would I be talking about?” I don’t give a fuck who anyone else sleeps with. They don’t belong to me. Kendrick does.
“Just clarifying.” Sebastian’s looking at me like I grew two heads between one drink and the next. I don’t even need to check to know that I didn’t. “He’s not going to. The toxic-codependency thing you two have going on guarantees it.”
“There are no guarantees in life.”
He just looks at me, doing that arched-eyebrow thing I’ve noticed he does a lot. If I flick his piercing, will it hurt? I’m tempted to lean across the table and try it out. Can’t test a theory without the practical.
“The point is—”
“Why do you think he’s going to sleep with someone else?” Sebastian asks. “Has he met someone?”
“No.” He better not have. He’d tell me, wouldn’t he? I pull out my phone and quickly send Kendrick a text.
Me: Are you seeing someone?
A message comes back almost immediately and is just a series of question marks, followed by:How much have you had to drink?
Kind of a rude question. I’ve only had a few, and the fries we ordered are helping to soak up a lot of it.
“Riddle me this,” Sebastian says, leaning back and spreading his legs wide, fingers curled around his glass. “Why’s it such aproblem if he does? It’d just be a physical thing. You two aren’t like that, so why can’t he have it somewhere else? He’ll always come back to you.”
Hot rage flashes through me, and my lips twist into a snarl. That’s not how we work, and I’ll never allow it. “Because he’s mine. They don’t get to have any of him.” Not one single piece, temporary or not.
He looks more amused than threatened by my tone. “But you don’t want him either. You see the hypocrisy here?”
“I do want him. Why do you think that I don’t?” He’smine. There’s nothing more “want” than that.
“You aren’t having sex with him, are you?”
What the hell does that have to do with anything? “Is that some sort of prerequisite? I can’t need him so much that I can’t fuckingbreatheunless I want to have sex with him? Is that what I need to do?” I stand unsteadily, alcohol splashing onto my hand from the drink I’m still holding. Shit, oops. After sliding the glass back onto the table, I suck the side of my hand into my mouth to lick some of it up. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“Let’s go?”
“To have sex.” Isn’t he listening to this conversation?
Sebastian chokes on his own drink, taking a few minutes to cough it up. “I’m not—what? No. We’re not—I wasn’t suggesting—I already told you—”
What? Oh. “Not you and me!” Christ, is he even listening to me? “If there are rules here that I need to follow, then fine. I’ll get it over with.”
“Yes, because I’m sure he’ll appreciate you ‘getting it over with,’” Sebastian replies dryly. “Be still my beating heart.”
“Fuck off.”
“Sit back down and cool off, Romeo.”
I only do because my legs aren’t feeling particularly stable right now. My heart hurts. So does my stomach, though I’m notsure whether it’s the alcohol or everything else doing that. When did I eat last? Not since I had that snack with Kendrick earlier. We’re supposed to be moving him into my place tomorrow, and being hungover probably isn’t the greatest idea in the world, but here I am. I’ve made worse decisions, it’s fine.
“Will he stop wanting me if I don’t give him that?”
