Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“You stay the fuck away from her,” Sebastian growls, and before I even understand what’s happening, he’s grabbed Daniel’s shoulder, hard. The kitchen goes silent, and the stillness transfers to the living room, the front hall, sweeping through the house like wind across a field. Sebastian dwarfs Daniel, whose presumption and gleam are totally gone; he looks like he’s genuinely scared, and I feel bad for him. A little.
“Hey, hey,” a new voice says, and Conor appears. He puts a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Man, relax. He’s not worth the argument with the coaches later. Let this little dickweed go.”
Sebastian breathes slowly, his eyes on Daniel. Finally, he nods, and releases Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel scampers away, and within a few moments, the chatter of the party resumes.
Conor glances at me, and his eyes widen.
“This girl again?” Conor asks. “How did you even get in here?”
“I—“ I swallow, a little whiplashed at going from Daniel to Sebastian to Conor so quickly. “Juliet invited me.”
“The cheerleader? She invited a Papa Pig’s girl? The fuck—“
“She’s my guest,” Sebastian says, turning his head to Conor. “This is Ashlynn, and she’s my guest.”
Conor looks stunned, then lifts an eyebrow at Sebastian. I can see the judgment there, the frustration. I can see the question— Why this girl? though it goes unasked. Finally, Conor shakes his head with a sort of piteous shrug. “Okay, man, sure,” he mutters, then gives me a dark glance before walking away, back to the rest of the party.
It’s just me and Sebastian, for the most part. Most everyone evacuated the kitchen during the argument between Daniel and Sebastian, and though I see a few curious heads looking our way from the other rooms, it feels like we’re in our own little world of tile and ice and the refrigerator’s humming. I look down, unable to meet his eyes without my knees going weak.
“Were you flirting with him?” Sebastian asks, confused. It’s not that he’s mad at the prospect, I can tell, it’s that he’s alarmed by the notion.
“No,” I say quickly, letting my eyes dash to his for a heartbeat. “He was hitting on me. That guy is…well. Like Conor said— he’s a dickweed.”
Sebastian seems pleased by my assessment. “Very true.” He takes a step toward me. “Though I don’t like him hitting on you any more than the idea of you hitting on him.”
“I’m not at all interested in him,” I say, shaking my head. My voice is a whisper, and Sebastian has caught my eyes with his. I can’t possibly look away. He takes another step forward, only a foot or so away now, and the scent of him hits me. I feel my stomach clench, and without meaning to, I bite my lip.
Sebastian nods. “Good. I didn’t know you were coming here, tonight.”
“I didn’t either until today. A friend got me in.”
“I could get you in anytime you like,” Sebastian says, then reaches forward and runs his fingers down my arm. I tremble, glad that his breadth blocks any of the other partygoers from seeing the fact that he’s slaying me, right now. “You look beautiful, Ashlynn.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the party, then back at me. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere private,” he answers, and takes my hand in his.
I’m shaking— my hands, my knees, I’m nervous beyond reason. It’s all happening so fast, is all— I was just talking to some douchebag about New Recruits Week a moment ago, and now Sebastian is here and he just overwhelms me so much, I—
He looks at my trembling fingers. “Do you trust me, Ashlynn?”
I choke on my words for a moment, before finally managing to nod and say, “Yes, I’m just— this is a lot to…I just—“
He leans in close, ducking his head down to whisper in my ear, his intoxicating scent a cloud around my senses. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll take good care of you.”
The words on their own nearly make me whimper in anticipation— something about hearing this, about hearing someone tell me that he’s in charge, that I can relax, that for once in my life I don’t need to collect myself…I look up at him, our cheeks brushing together, and nod again.
“Come with me,” he says again, and then takes my hand in his. Even though my knees are weak, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment, I follow him— past the rest of the party, up the stairs, down the hall, to his bedroom.
9
Sebastian steps aside so I can walk in first, then shuts the door behind him. I clutch my purse nervously, standing in the center of the room, unsure what to do, where to go— but also waiting on Sebastian to tell me all of the above. He will— I know he will— and though part of me is irritated that I’d wait for a guy to order me around, I also love the ease that comes with knowing there won’t be any guesswork here. Sebastian will be in charge, and…I like that. I want that.