Page 65 of Release Me

“I mean…yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, which makes Nadia’s nostrils flare.

“Maybe because I told you I was no longer working at the club? Because I gave you my real name and my real phone number and told you about my real job? What about the interactions we’ve had over the last few weeks made you think the rules at Ludus—which still wouldn’t have guaranteed you a second in bed with me—still applied out here in the real world?”

“Because you were playing the same game out here that you were in there.” He’s glaring at her now, but it’s the slight rise in his tone that has me stepping forward, placing myself between them.

Nadia’s head rears back and her brows knit themselves together. “What games? I was very clear about my boundaries at the club. Sex was never a part of the deal. You paid me for my time and conversation.”

“Oh come on! We both know that was just an act. Girls do it all the time to stand out from the competition. And even after I got kicked out of Ludus—” he pauses, glancing at me, “—thanks for that, by the way”

“You’re welcome,” I return, unashamed of following my instincts when they told me to get him far away from Nadia.

“And even after you got kicked out of Ludus, what?” Nadia says, prompting Preston to return to his original line of thought.

His eyes return to her face, bitterness curling his top lip. “Even after I got kicked out of Ludus, you were still playing hard to get. Taking my number but refusing to give me yours. Not calling for weeks. Then finally giving me your number and taking days to return a text. All of it is just mind games?—”

“Or disinterest,” I say, cutting him off. “You’re too damn old not to know what that looks like on a woman.”

Nothing I know about Preston suggests that he’s a fighter, so it makes sense that I see the punch he throws coming from a mile away. That I’m able to stop the sloppy attempt at a jab with one hand and upper cut him with the other, sending him flying into the door of his car. His body hits the steel frame so hard the alarm starts to blare, drowning out the sound of Nadia’s exasperated sigh.

“Sebastian!” She shouts, outraged but not upset enough to help Preston who looks dazed and confused. “You can’t hit every man who talks to me crazy.”

“Oh, precious.” I turn to her, snaking a hand around her waist and pulling her in close. “I absolutely can.”

23

NADIA

Idon’t know what’s crazier, the fact that I watched Sebastian punch Preston in the face and then help him to his car or the fact that not even an hour after it happened, we’re perusing the aisles of the grocery store inside my apartment building, looking for something to make for dinner. I told Sebastian we could just go out to eat, but he insisted on cooking for me, saying he didn’t want to risk us having any more interruptions tonight.

Sebastian is pushing the cart while I trail behind him, admiring how completely domestic he is in this moment. He looks right at home in the produce section, examining heads of butter lettuce and palming avocados to check for their ripeness. When he finds a few that meets his standards, he bags them and puts them in the cart.

“What if I don’t like avocados?” I ask, sitting the red onion he told me to grab beside the item in question.

“You love avocados. Whenever you get the Cobb salad from Twisted Sistas, you always ask for extra.”

I snap my fingers, pretending to be put out by how closely he pays attention to me even though I’m sure he’s aware how much I love it. “Damn, can’t get anything by you.”

“That’s right, precious, you can’t.”

The first time he called me precious I thought it was a mistake. A slip of the tongue that caused him to confuse an adjective with a verb, but he’s done it several times now, which let’s me know it’s intentional. When he uses it, it’s not just a descriptor—a thing I happen to be some of the time— it’s an endearment, a title I’ll always hold when I’m with him.

With him.

Am I with him? I don’t know. We haven’t exactly had time to put a label on anything, and I guess now is as good a time as any to ask. I put a hand on Sebastian’s arm, stopping him from grabbing the radishes on the shelf in front of him. His eyes find mine, and the smile that softens his features makes me melt.

“I have a question.”

Amusement makes the corners of his mouth quirk. “I figured.”

I bite my lip, suddenly feeling nervous with his eyes on me. “Are we..uh, are we together? Like together, together?”

“Together, together?” Sebastian laughs, which breaks up some of my nervous energy, allowing it to transform into something else when he steps into my space, placing one hand on my hip and using the other to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “Nadia, are you asking me if I’ll be your boyfriend?”

He’s teasing me and normally I’d hate that because I’m asking for reassurance, but right now I don’t mind because there’s fire in my veins and his scent has invaded my lungs and all I really care about is the answer to my question and whether or not it’s going to lead to us kissing again.

“No, I’m telling you that after you punched my date in the face and made me waste a perfectly good outfit on the grocery store in my apartment building, you better want to be something more than friends with benefits.”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I want the benefits.” The hand on my waist slides up my body, caressing my side, grazing my breast, stealing my breath. Sebastian catalogs my reaction to his touch with heated eyes that skate across my features with vivid interest. He licks his lips before continuing. “But I want to be more than your friend, Nadia.”

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