Sebastian had once told me he was gay, but that had been a long-ass time ago, and sexuality was a spectrum. Maybe in the past ten years, he’d become a bit more fluid in his preferences.
And it wasn’t like I didn’t know relationships like that existed. I had a teammate back in Vancouver who was seeing two different women. They found out about each other, and instead of it all blowing up, the three of them ended up in a poly relationship. When I was traded to Chicago, they were still together, though a couple of years later, I saw on Insta that he had married someone else entirely.
Sebastian forced out a short, dry laugh. “God, no.”
My expression must have given away my confusion because he let loose a put-upon sigh, like he was having to explain a very cut-and-dry situation to someone like they were stupid.
To be clear,nothingabout this seemed cut and dry.
“It’s like this: She fucks him.Ifuck him. And he fucks the both of us. We aren’t a throuple, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I didn’t want to judge—I mean, whatever worked for you—but it very much sounded like this arrangementdidn’twork for Sebastian.
And the fact that hekepttalking, kept unburdening himself to me like this was the first time he was getting a chance to voice any of this out loud, only cemented that notion further.
“But lately, it’s gotten a bit …” He paused, as if searching for the right word. “She seems to be operating under the assumption that even though she and I aren’t anything, she still gets a say inmylife.”
Do not ask. Do not ask. Do not ask.
“What do you mean?”
So much for not asking.
“This morning she announced that she’s buying the condo across the hall from them, so that it’s easier for Wyatt and me to be together. Fewer chances, I suppose, of getting caught leaving each other’s apartments.” He snorted loudly. “Down at the pool today, she called us one big happy family.” This last sentence was spoken almost as if he was only just now processing the weight of that. As if he was in too deep and didn’t know how to handle it.
Shit. No wonder he was a mess. I could almost understand if he?—
“Do you love him?” I asked, rubbing the heel of my palm over my chest, trying to ease a sharp ache there.
Sebastian shook his head and let out a cynical laugh. “I don’t think I know how to love anymore.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him. I couldn’t imagine devoting that much of myself to someone andnotfeeling that way about them.
His shoulders drew in, his spine curling. He rubbed his face with both hands. “Christ, listen to me.” He dropped his hands and straightened. “Anyway, enough about my sad, fucked up life. You came up expecting an orgasm, so …” His gaze landed on my dick, which hadn’t been hard in almost an hour, before meeting my eyes again.
It was like a switch had been flipped, and it took me a moment to recalibrate.
And when I did, a sickening thought took root—Sebastian was using me as a revenge fuck. I was his way of proving to Wyatt that he could fuck other people, too.
Was I his way of striking back at the lover who’d hurt him?
Heat crawled up my neck. I’d been fine with the idea of casual sex between old friends. One last hurrah to scratch an itch.
But this? Being his distraction from a messy breakup? A convenient body to make him feel wanted?
That made me a pawn in a game I hadn’t signed up to play.
I stood up too fast, my knees knocking the edge of the coffee table. “I’m leaving,” I said through clenched teeth, anger bleeding through despite my effort to control it.
Sebastian surged forward, his fingers wrapping around my forearm, tight and possessive.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up, and a different kind of heat flooded through me, instant and undeniable.
His grip had always made me react like this, a trigger I’d never been able to shake. A touch that bypassed every rational thought.
Suddenly, I was back in our old dorm room, Sebastian pinning my wrists over my head, his body moving against mine.
My heart pounded, and blood rushed south, my cock instantly hardening despite the anger simmering in my chest.
