“Still, must be nice to be with someone like that. So open and carefree with respect and trust. It sounds comforting.” I sip my beer, ignoring Quinn’s pitiful gaze. She has a lot of questions but doesn’t want to offend me by asking. “You want to speak freely, remember?”
“Ah, right.” She slaps her hands on the bed and sits up, wrapping her arms around her legs and lays her cheek against her knee. “Sebastian loves you, Gabriella. Really, genuinely loves you. The way Jaxon loves me. I know you don’t believe it because he just ran out of here like the devil was burning his heels, but that right there proves how much he loves you. He has searched for you ever since he got out of prison. Night and day. He set up alerts on his computer for women who have died. He filtered it by age and physical description. He wired into ever traffic camera. There was so much information, it was impossible for a man to do it all on his own, but he never gave up on you. Isn’t that what love means? Not giving up on the person you love. He did that for you, and while you found him instead of him finding you, I have never seen him happier than how he is with you. You’re ready to jump with him, but he is afraid that if he jumps with you, it will be too high of a jump and you’ll regret falling with him. He wants to give you time to heal.”
“I don’t need time to heal. I just need him. I’ve had plenty of time to heal; living every day with a monster does that to someone. I know it seems impossible for me to want to move on, but I want to live again. I want my life to go back to normal. I can’t say I won’t have hard times, I know I will, but I want to spend them with Sebastian. Seven years is too long to go without him, I can’t go another seven years.”
A wicked smile forms across Quinn’s lips as a plan unravels in her eyes. “You know, the guys are doing a game night. It’s typical for a Friday. Why don’t we go in and have fun? I’ll doll you up, tell them we are going to hit the small town of Trinidad and paint it red? Only not really because bars don’t really exist here; just a nice restaurant and a grocery store.”
“I don’t want to leave the house.” The first thing I think of is Kendrick. He could find me. Right now, he has no idea where I am, and if I stay, within these four walls, he’ll never know.
“We aren’t leaving. It will get Sebastian off your ass.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll have one of the other guys flirt with you, like Heaven. He’s harmless, but he will get the job done.”
“I don’t want to make Sebastian jealous with another guy. Another guy has been between us already. That feels dirty. Why can’t I just go up to him and say I want him, and I don’t want to dance this dance without him?”
“Because that’s what he is supposed to do to you, girly.” Quinn slaps my knee and stands, and by how she digs through her bottomless bag and pulls out makeup, I have a feeling what tricks she has up her sleeve aren’t going to work.
Sebastian will not be the one to end this dance between us because he is afraid to hurt me. I have to take charge.
I need to dig down deep and find the woman I used to be.
I just hope I don’t chicken out.
Chapter Thirteen
SEBASTIAN
All the guys are in the game room, drinking beer, and bullshitting. The TV plays a football game. Cowboys and the Patriots. Cowboys are losing. Go fucking figure. I hate the Patriots. I’m barely paying attention to the game anyhow. Every few minutes I drag myself out of the memory of Gabriella rubbing off on me and catch the score, then drown myself in another swallow of beer.
What the fuck was I thinking pinning her to the wall like that? Kissing her, letting her hump me, for fuck’s sake, while I stared at her naked body. She must hate me right now. I am just as bad as my brother when it comes to having no control of myself.
“Why are you so sulky? It’s game night, and you aren’t even the one with a broken leg,” Heaven says, sitting on the couch next to me.
“Or arm,” Jaxon adds, taking the other spot to my left.
Owen, for some fucking reason, is the only one who caught on to my mood and is giving me space. Grayson is a bit curious, but he keeps his eyes on the TV. Jaxon and Heaven? They are fucking annoying when it comes to someone in a mood.
And that is downplaying it. I don’t know another word for what I feel. Guilty? Sick? Disgusting? A perv? Did I take advantage of her? The reality and the dreams are starting to mix again, and I'm not sure if I am overthinking what happened or if my paranoia is ruining it. What if what happened between us is just like my dream? There is a chance I am twisting things in my head.
If I backtrack, she is the one who dropped the fucking towel, showing her treasure of a body that I want to possess and fucking cherish. I don't have it in me to fuck her, not before we get things out in the open. We have to get them out in the open, but maybe she thinks I am dragging my heels because I haven’t bent her over the table and had my way with her.
How the hell can I do that when my brother used her in every which way possible? She has to understand my ease in to this; for her own good, not mine.
“Thinking awfully hard there, brother.” Jax flicks the side of my temple, and I hiss, rubbing the side of my head with my hand.
Jaxon is pushy and when he speaks, it means he wants to have conversation. He isn’t the kind of guy to say empty words without expecting a reply. He is the leader, so if he noticed something is on my mind, he will want to talk about it to clear the air and make sure I am alright. He is pesky.
But I'm not alright.
The woman I love is in the same house as me, finally, after so many years, and I am starting to think I am going to take advantage of her.
“I’m fine,” I lie, not wanting to talk about this any further. “Who wants to play some air hockey?” I jump up from the couch and stand, making my way over to the table.
“I’ll play.”
My head jerks up to the door to see Gabriella.
I drop the puck on the ground when she walks forward, my eyes glued on the curves of her hips as they sway from side to side. Black skinny jeans are painted onto her legs, and a crop top shows the lean lines of her abdomen and tan skin.
The crop top is short.
Too. Fucking. Short.
My eyes narrow, and I shrug off my jacket and stalk over to her, throwing it around her shoulders. “You must be freezing. I can’t believe you’re wearing that,” I say a bit too harshly, cursing myself for how rude I sound. I don’t want Heaven to get a glimpse of her beautiful body. I zip up the jacket and stare at the shirt bunching up to her breasts.
I really want to bury my face between them and move from left to right, licking and sucking the sweet pieces of candy until my fucking teeth ache.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She sounds pissed, not hurt. Pissed.
Which in women’s terms means she is hurt, but not in a crying way; in a “I want to slap you in the face’ kind of way.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with what she’s wearing? I think she looks gorgeous,” Heaven says, shooting her a wink.
A blush steals her cheeks, and she giggles. “Thank you, Heaven.”
I turn my head over my shoulder and sneer at him, telling him to back off.