“How did you know?” I ask quietly, and I swear my voice sounds softer now, the earlier shock fading into something closer to curiosity as I lean forward slightly and rest my cheek against the edge of the tub.
From here I can watch him move around the bathroom like he’s done this a hundred times before. Sebastian’s movements are calm and deliberate as he pulls one of the sandwiches apart and begins cutting it into small bite-sized pieces with the edge of a butter knife.
“I have my ways,” he says casually.
His eyes flick up toward mine in the mirror for just a moment, and the look he gives me sends an unexpected ripple of warmth through my chest.
“Where did you even find those that quickly?” I start to ask, but the question trails off halfway through as another wave of exhaustion rolls through me.
My eyelids flutter.
“It’s amazing what freshman rugby boys can pull together if they think I’ll kick their ass if they don’t get me what I want,” he replies.
The image that immediately forms in my head is ridiculous enough that I can’t stop the small snort of laughter that escapes me.
A group of terrified freshman rugby players sprinting across campus in search of grilled cheese and American root beer because Sebastian Vale told them to.
“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a man with such grand connections,” I say, putting on a dramatically exaggerated Irish accent that I’ve picked up from Juniper. I like when she tries to imitate my American accent, because it always starts out spot on and then morphs into a cross between Paris Hilton and the cast of Mean Girls.
My eyes flutter shut for a moment as exhaustion sweeps over me. When I open my eyes again, it’s just in time to see Sebastian looking directly at me through the mirror.
And then he winks.
The simple gesture makes something warm unfurl slowly inside my chest.
He walks over toward the tub, the plate and bottle balanced easily in one hand as he lowers himself down beside me, kneeling so we’re suddenly much closer than we were before.
Close enough that I can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw.
“Less impressions,” he says calmly. Then he lifts a piece of grilled cheese toward my mouth. “And more eating.”
I must be staring at him like I’ve completely lost my mind, because the slow grin spreading across Sebastian’s face tells me he’s amused.
I can’t seem to help it though. My brain keeps circling the same impossible question while I sit here half submerged in warm bathwater watching this enormous rugby player kneel beside my tub like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Why is he being so nice to me?
Out of everyone on this campus. Out of every girl who walks through the ivy-covered courtyards of St. Killian. Why is Sebastian Vale kneeling beside my bathtub, cutting a grilled cheese into neat little pieces and feeding them to me like I’m someone who is very important to him?
“I washed my hands,” he says suddenly, lifting one broad shoulder in an exaggerated shrug like that somehow explains everything. The comment is so unexpected that a laugh escapes me before I can stop it. The sound feels strange in my throat, like I haven’t laughed this easily in a long time.
I lean forward slightly to accept the bite he’s holding out to me. The sandwich is warm and buttery, the melted cheese stretching just a little as I pull away, and for a moment I focus entirely on chewing because it’s easier than thinking about the way Sebastian is watching me.
Then my stomach growls loud enough that the sound echoes in the small bathroom. Heat rushes straight into my cheeks.
Oh my God, this is so embarrassing.
Sebastian’s expression changes instantly. The teasing softness disappears, replaced by a stern look that makes something deep in my stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with hunger.
“If you weren’t so exhausted right now,” he says slowly, his voice low but unmistakably serious, “I’d spank you for not taking care of yourself.”
The words are playful, but the look on his face isn’t. My traitorous imagination immediately paints the picture before I can stop it.
Sebastian pulling me over his knee. His large hand coming down against the bare skin of my ass cheek.
My breath catches as warmth spreads across my chest, my nipples tightening beneath the warm bathwater while a slow heat pools low in my belly.
No one has ever had this effect on me before. No one has ever even come close. But the way my body reacts to the idea of him spanking me makes me wonder something. With sudden and slightly alarming curiosity, I’m unsure if I wouldn’t let him if he asked.
