Page 57 of Shark’s Pride

Not now. Not now. Don’t give him the satisfaction. He’s trying to upset you to turn the attention away from himself.

The admission wasn’t startling. This was standard operating procedure for him. I knew this by now. This was how Sebastian Shark, master mogul, stayed safe from the world at large, not just me. He lived in a kingdom of his own, where no one could hurt him. Until that happened, he just dealt with people who got too close by smiting them with his mighty tongue. In none of the good ways either.

This man didn’t do relationships. Didn’t do anything more than the good old-fashioned wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. At least until now. Or so he kept telling me. And so I kept telling myself not to believe—until somehow, in some way, I had—and then acted on it by grabbing for more like a needy girl. Despite the solid proof that he was really trying here, giving me a night of fun and adventure instead of his usual workaholic act. But I hadn’t been satisfied with the simple gratitude for that. I’d gunned our relationship engines for more emotional road than he had and not paid attention to all the signs. And they were right there, in caution yellow and stop sign red.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But now, because of my constant need to push for the next achievement, attain the next goal, and rise to the next level in all things, there might be only one road sign left to heed. The scariest one of them all. The one I feared we’d finally come upon.

Pavement ends.

Chapter Eight

Sebastian

“Joel.”

“Yes, Mr. Shark?”

“Pull over.”

Abbi twisted her hand into the back of my shirt. “What are you doing? You can’t get out of the car in the middle of the street!”

Panic drenched her voice. Still, I was tempted to laugh. Did she think she could physically hold me back from this? From doing anything I really wanted to?

Damn, how I admired this woman’s tenacity—among so many other things.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I finished with a scowl because this whole conversation still had me pissed. I didn’t want to be in a shit mood, yet she’d thrown me headlong into one by bringing up Viktor fucking Blake. What was with her and that bastard, anyway?

“You’re the one being ridiculous right now.” She flopped back against the seat, furiously folding her arms.

“Joel! Pull over!”

“Of course, Mr. Shark.”

I ducked my head back toward my woman—if she was still that anymore. Why the mere thought of the alternative halted my heart and made me break out in a cold sweat, I had no idea.

“I think we need out of this car before one of us says something we won’t recover from.” As soon as I gritted it out, I released a rickety breath. “And I don’t want to do that, baby. I really don’t want to screw this up, Abbigail—and I feel perilously close to doing that.”

Only silence from her side of the car.

I tried to pry her hand from where it was tucked under her arm. She wrenched away with a censuring glare. I dropped mine back into my lap, clenching my teeth against bellowing a string of profanity. My temper would only thicken the air in here, which was already stifling.

And goddammit, no matter how hard I tried, I knew that relief wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. The confines of the back seat were getting hotter by the second, and I took no measure to hide my desire to get out. Why bother? Abbi was already staring like I was a caged creature, igniting her obvious fear. She even found extra space on her side of the car and used it to scoot farther away from me.

At last, Joel eased the car into a parking space. Before he was done killing the engine, Abbi and I had our doors flung open. We bailed like kamikaze bombers changing our minds on a final mission.

I paced along the side of the car, rubbing my neck to relieve my tension.

I needed to apologize. It was one of the few feats in this world at which I was complete shit.

I rounded the trunk of the car. Slowed my determined stomps into cautious steps. She had her back hunched to me and was scrolling on her phone.

“Red—”

“Don’t,” she retorted. Once more, I didn’t begrudge her the anger.

“Can we just talk about all of this?”