I pushed up and pressed a quick peck to his lips before hugging him again. “Want to go back?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I need the bathroom first.”
Henry raised a hand as we parted. I pushed my way to the bathroom, stood in line for what felt like forever—fucking clubs—and then headed back to the table.
I was halfway there when I spotted Sebastian walking away, shoulders tight, posture stiff. The magnetic pull between us dragged me after him, bypassing the VIP section entirely.
He was leaning against the end of a corridor, probably leading to the offices—Sebastian’s favorite kind of hiding spots. He looked serious, brows drawn and lips pressed into a thin line.
“What are you doing, stranger? Lurking in the back like a creep,” I teased.
His eyes flicked up to mine, then away. No humor. Just a low hum in response.
I smiled to myself.Look at him, all jealous.A sharp flicker of thrill shot down my spine—that dangerous, addictive lure that had always lived in the space between us.
Stepping into the corridor, I leaned back against the opposite wall, facing him. My tongue dragged over my lower lip, unable to help the grin tugging at them. “You mad at me?”
His jaw twitched.
It was hot back here, and I probably looked like a mess from dancing—hair pushed back, shirt open more than it should be. He, of course, looked great. Weatherproof, as always. Even the faint sheen on his neck somehow worked for him.
I tapped his shoe with mine. “Say something.”
Sebastian shook his head tightly, gaze still fixed anywhere but on me. “Aren’t we supposed to be friends?”
“We’re friends.”
A dry, humorless laugh scraped out of him. “That didn’t feel very friendly.”
I pushed off the wall and took a step closer. “You know we’re just?—”
But he’d reached his limit. “You know I try my best not to show any kind of affection,” he cut in, dark eyes finally locking on mine. “Not in front of you. I told you I would never do that to you.”
Something in his voice made my grin falter. “What are you talking about?”
“With Luca.”
My stomach dropped.
But he wasn’t done.
“I don’t do it because I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Because I fucking care about you.” He straightened, shoulders squaring, taking up more space—and I hated how much taller he looked. How small I felt.
And suddenly the heat between us felt different. Like a different brand of danger.
“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” I said, the words coming out clipped. “You didn’t hurt my?—”
“Well, you hurt mine!” Sebastian snapped.
I froze, lips parting.
Shit.
I hadn’t meant?—
“Whatever happened to you not doing that to me?” His brows were low, voice shaking with anger—or something close to it. “To not doing it with my own fucking brother?”
