She tries to step around me, but I won’t let her. She looks almost pained and I hold her shoulder with one hand and push her chin up gently with the other. She looks at me and I don’t like the tight press of her lips or the way her gray eyes seem stormy. “Seb, I said I didn’t want this.”
“But you do want this.”
“But this is why I shouldn’t want this.” She motions back toward my house.
“Dawn and I dated for a little over a month.” I don’t know if I’m saying the right thing. “She may have been more attached than I was, but as soon as I realized that we weren’t on the same page, that she wasn’t a fit for me, I ended it. I didn’t lead her on. I didn’t keep her around for sex. I ended it.”
She sighs. “And yet here she is.”
Before she can leave again, I kiss her. It’s rough and dominant and demanding. She responds—thank the hockey gods, she responds—kissing me back with equal force and passion, just like the competitive, spirited, sexy woman I know she is.
“I won’t let you use this as an excuse to ignore our connection,” I murmur when we finally break apart. “So save your energy and stop trying.”
She gives me the tiniest smile, but it’s a smile. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“I’m not,” I admit and glance down at my pants where my hard-on is making space limited. “But you’re the boss of him, and he will not let you fire him.”
She laughs. It’s bright, bold and at the sound of it my heart feels like it scored an OT winner. “Don’t make plans for tonight. As soon as I’m done with this charity thing, I’m taking you to dinner.”
She opens her mouth but I kiss her words away. “Don’t argue. Just be ready at seven. Later, Shay.”
“You’re arrogant, presumptuous and egotistical,” she replies, but as she marches off down the street she says, “See you at seven.”
I smile victoriously as I watch her ass swing as she walks away.
“Sebastian.” I turn and see Stephanie on the stoop with Dawn, who has tears in her eyes.
Merde. Maudit. Calisse. Tabernac.
Chapter 29
Shayne
I’m still feeling conflicted when the Uber drops me off in front of my apartment. I like Sebastian Deveau. There’s no denying that anymore. There’s just not. To myself or anyone else if they ask—and Audrey will ask. But…I’m still grappling with the anxiety and fear that realization gave me this morning as he pressed his warm, wet body into mine in the shower and kissed me slow and deep as he washed my back. I’m on the brink of dating a hockey player. It’s a complete impossibility. It’s my worst nightmare and yet…I want it. I want to date Sebastian Deveau.
I have no reason not to believe that it was his sister and his ex who showed up on his doorstep this morning and that the whole thing was a weird, badly timed commitment he forgot about. In fact, he was brutally honest about it. He didn’t sugarcoat it. He didn’t lie. And he was right: everyone has exes. I had a few, but being that the last one was years ago in a different state, he is not about to show up on my doorstep.
As I open my front door and kick off my shoes, my stomach grumbles and my cell phone rings. I see my sister-in-law’s name on the call display as I wander into my kitchen. “Hey, Sash.”
“Are you at the gym?”
“No. I’m not working today. Why?”
“Because Trey said he was going to work this morning but I called over there and Sara says it’s his day off,” she replies, and her voice is tight with worry.
“It is his day off,” I reply and open my fridge, looking at the contents for something quick and easy I can consume. “You know that.”
“Yeah, I do, but this morning he said he was going in anyway.” Sasha sighed and I hear a slight quiver in her voice as she continues. “He’s been stressed lately. The new business and the pregnancy and it’s a lot of stress. He barely sleeps and he’s been…on edge.”
Sasha sounds so upset it rattles me, but I hope it’s just the pregnancy that has her emotional. I grab a single-serve bottle of chocolate coconut milk out of the fridge and press the phone between my ear and shoulder as I twist it open. “Sara is a bit of a flake. Trey could be locked in his office and she didn’t notice.”
“He’s not answering his cell either.”
Okay. I have to admit that’s weird. He’s got a pregnant wife at home: he should always answer his cell. “Are you okay? Do you need something? I can swing by.”
“No. I just…I just want to see my husband.”
The angst in her voice is heartbreaking. I put down my coconut milk. “I’m going to head over there this afternoon and I’ll send him home. He knows he has to keep his stress in check and it doesn’t sound like he’s doing that.”
