Say the Word(83)
“My cupboards are empty.”
“Well, then I’ll order you something.” He grinned at me, stepping further through the entry so I had no choice but to move back a step — it was either that or initiate a sumo-wrestler-esque chest bump standoff, which I was in no way prepared for seeing as I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Listen, Des…” I trailed off. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I also didn’t want to lead him on. His smile slipped a little. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to—”
“Hey, it’s cool,” he said, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender. “No worries.”
“Thanks for the jacket,” I told him, meaning it. “And I’m sorry.”
“Come ‘ere, Kincaid.” He smiled sadly as he stepped forward and pulled me into an embrace. It wasn’t one of seduction, but of sheer comfort. Of friendship.
What a freaking good guy, I thought, bringing my arms up to return his light hug. I cursed my own inabilities to date him, but hoped that one day we could, at the very least, be friends. A warm, happy bubble of contentment rose within me at the thought.
Unfortunately, that bubble burst when a familiar icy voice shattered the silence and stopped my heart — for the second time today.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
My arms stilled around Des, and I felt every hair on my body stand on end.
Shit, shit, shit.
Sebastian f*cking Covington was at my door.
***
My eyes flew open and spotted him over Desmond’s shoulder. He was standing in the partially open doorway, the hand he’d raised to knock drifting slowly back toward his side. His glaring eyes were, for once, not directed at me, but were locked on the back of Des’ head. With my eyes on Sebastian, I pulled out of the embrace. Desmond’s arms dropped away from me, and he turned to face the man who’d just appeared in my doorway.
“This was a mistake.” Sebastian’s eyes were wide, his tone incredulous. “I just can’t seem to stop making those with you. I shouldn’t have come here.”
Desmond looked from me to Sebastian, then back to me. “This the guy?” he asked.
I glanced at Sebastian, who’d turned to go but halted when he heard Desmond’s question. When Bash’s eyes met mine, I nodded reluctantly.
“Seems like a dick,” Desmond muttered. One corner of my mouth twitched and my gaze returned to Des.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m the dick in this situation,” I admitted. I could sense Sebastian’s presence by the door, where he stood paralyzed with momentary indecision — to stay or to go. As much as I was worried about another confrontation like the one we’d shared earlier, the curiosity of why he was at my door — hell, of how he’d even tracked down my apartment and gotten inside without buzzing — was tearing me up inside.
“You gonna be okay with him if I leave?” Des asked. I smiled softly at him before my eyes drifted over to Sebastian. He was watching me closely and I saw something flare in his eyes when I nodded my head.
“Yeah,” I said, my gaze steady. “Yeah, I’ll be fine with him.”
“You need me, you call.” Des took hold of my chin and turned my face back toward him, so I was looking into his light blue eyes rather than the hazel ones that had a tendency to ensnare me.
“Thanks, Des,” I whispered. “You’re the best.”
“I know that, babe.” His grin was cocky. “I’m just waiting for you to catch up.”
I laughed as he dropped a light kiss on my forehead, turned for the door, and came face to face with Sebastian — at which point all levity was sucked from the room and my giggles died in my throat. Des drew himself up to full height and made sure his not-insignificant muscles were on display as he leaned toward Bash.
“Do not upset her.” His tone was surprisingly cordial, even if his stark order left something to be desired.
To my surprise, when Sebastian responded it was with equal civility. “I won’t,” he promised.
“Good.” Des nodded, then turned back to look at me. “Bye, babe!”
With a final wink, he was gone — leaving me not only in the company of my ex, but also wearing a ridiculous silk freaking pajama set and three sheets to the wind after downing two brimming glasses of wine.
Perfect.
I stared at Sebastian. Sebastian stared back at me.
When neither of us spoke, the tension grew into a living, breathing entity — coiling around us like a dark, malevolent snake. With each passing second, the cobra constricted more tightly, its deadly embrace squeezing until the strain of simply staring at one another became too much to withstand. I cleared my throat, sick of this silent stalemate, and gave in.
“Well.” I stepped back into my apartment so the doorway was clear. “I guess you should come in.”
He took a step inside and shut the door behind him with a soft click that, for some reason, sounded more like a jail cell locking into place than a thin piece of particle-board closing on crappy hinges.
I walked over to my kitchen area and immediately topped off my wine glass, taking a healthy gulp for strength. When I turned back to Sebastian, his eyes were sweeping my small space in an intense but not altogether critical evaluation. They lingered for a moment on my wall of notes, photos, and mapped locations, his brow crinkling in confusion and curiosity as he took in the sight.