Page 54 of The Gods Forbid

Sebastian’s perusal of my face was slow. Then he did something that surprised me. “I reacted rather poorly upon hearing his name.” There was a note of regret in his voice. “The offer to teach him was the least that I could do.”

“What did you do?” I asked, careful to keep the judgment out of my tone. It was clear there was a lot of pain where Penelope was concerned. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost Adrian.

“Broke a paintbrush.”

I gasped, saying, “The sacrilege,” dramatically before I could decide whether or not it was a bad idea.

Thankfully, Sebastian seemed rather delighted by the fact that I’d chosen that path. My chest eased a bit. “Bought some paint off him for good measure,” he added, a slight smirk on his lips.

“I didn’t give you enough?” Goodness, where was this tone coming from? Unfortunately, I had an answer, but not one that could have any solution. My words could venture as flirtatious as they come, but that would change nothing about our situation.

An evil little voice in the back of my head whispered that there wasn’t any harm in a little light banter. I was inclined to listen, though I knew it wasn’t true.

“You gave me plenty,” Sebastian said, picking back up the wooden spoon and returning his attention to the stove and traumatizing me by wafting the delicious smell of the food up my nose and making me wait to eat it. “I’m just going through some colors quicker than others.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died in my throat when the fabric of his shirt scraped back over my leg. After a moment to collect myself, I said, “I’m sure Penn appreciated it, but you can always ask me if you need more. For whatever it is you’re painting.”

Sebastian’s grin widened enough to expose a dimple. “Curious?”

Yes, but I wouldn’t admit it. “I just want to know when my landscape will be done,” I said instead. Based on the wild look that entered Sebastian’s eyes, it might of been wiser to just admit that I was curious about what he’d been working on.

“You wouldn’t want a half-done painting, now would you?” Sebastian said, cocking an eyebrow at me. That was a very unsettling trait. The muscles in my stomach tightened to an almost painful degree.

“No,” I said, so hoarse I almost stuck my face over the bubbling pot in hopes the steam would ease the gravel in my throat.

Just as the thought struck me, Sebastian’s eyes darted back the stove, a low curse falling from his lips.

Over the course of our conversation, the grains in the pot had expanded in size, absorbing some of the liquid. I didn’t really understand what was wrong with the food—it looked and smelled great—but Sebastian’s eyebrows were drawn together in disgruntlement.

I’d never tell him, but he looked quite … cute like that.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

Sebastian’s mouth quirked. “Stop distracting me or I’ll burn this.”

“Okay,” I said through a laugh, the sound pulled from me by his grumbly tone. “I was in the middle of a book anyway.”

I flattened my hands on the marble, preparing to move myself off the counter and head to a more appropriate location to read and let Sebastian finish cooking. It was the least I could do. I was the one reaping all the fruits of his labor.

I looked down, but just as my weight transferred into my hands, the very book in question appeared in my lap, held by Sebastian’s paint-splattered hands.

The only appropriate solution was to stare at it like I didn’t recognize it. I was still trying to figure out how he knew that was the book I’d been referencing. I had a bad habit of reading multiple books at once, and they were scattered all over my kitchen and living room.

“I said stop distracting me,” Sebastian said, paying no mind to the way I was gaping at the book in his hand. Did his hand really have to span the entire length of the hardcover? “That doesn’t mean I like silence.”

Another small laugh rumbled from my chest. “Want to talk about that more?”

Sebastian let out a short breath of laughter. “I’d rather you read.” He punctuated the words by shaking the book slightly.

“That’s what I was planning to do,” I said, my confusion drawing out the words.

“Out loud.”

My head snapped up, and I almost jerked back into the cabinets behind me. When you weren’t braced for him, seeing his face—especially this close—was a shock to the system. More intense than any lightning bolt I was capable of conjuring. “You … you want me to read to you?”

Sebastian shrugged, which only drew attention to the breadth of his shoulders. “It’s for self preservation. I’ve been meaning to re-read that book and watching you read it, knowing you’re getting to the good parts, sounds rather torturous.”

I’d never met the Fates, but it sounded as good a time as any to introduce myself to them while begging for answers on how this was what they had planned for me.