Page 84 of Release Me

“You are family. You’re my family.”

Her fingers squeeze mine, and I send up a silent prayer that she’s not about to refute that statement because if she does I’ll have to prove it to her, and the only way to do that is by asking her a question she isn’t ready for.

“One day I’d love to host Thanksgiving with you, but not this year okay? I’m still finding my footing in New Haven, in this relationship, in your family, and we both know Luca will never let me live it down if I fuck up the macaroni and cheese on the most important eating day of the year.”

29

NADIA

Ihate turning Sebastian down, but I love that he takes my refusal in stride. That he hears my reservations and doesn’t minimize them, doesn’t try to talk me out of feeling the way I feel. It makes me feel safe, it makes me feel seen, it makes me feel loved.

We haven’t said those words yet, but they’re here, floating around us, layered in every touch we share and breath we exchange. But most of all, I see it in Sebastian’s eyes, and it thrills me as much as it scares me.

Which is a lot.

Every time I think he’s going to say the words, I lose the ability to breathe. And not in a good way, in a way that would probably lead to me passing out and ending up concussed instead of saying it back.

I’m not sure if I can say it back, and that in and of itself is frustrating because if I don’t love Sebastian Adler, I have never loved a single thing in my entire life. He’s the kindest, most patient man I’ve ever known, more considerate than I deserve, showering me with more compassion and care than any one person has the right to receive in a single lifetime, going out of his way to demonstrate how he feels about me even when it means doing ridiculous things like trying to put me in charge of the single most important meal of the year.

After I refused to host the entire dinner, we landed on a compromise of me assisting his mom with the cooking. Sebastian called her as soon as we got inside the penthouse, letting her know that she would finally have some willing help in the kitchen this year. I didn’t stick around to hear her response, heading to the bedroom just in case she wasn’t as excited as Sebastian said she would be. I’m in the bathroom removing my makeup when Sebastian comes in with a wide grin on his face.

“Mom is over the moon,” he says, padding over to the shower and turning it on because he’s got my evening routine memorized. “She’s already plotting what dishes she can have you make.”

The warmth of acceptance spreads through my chest, and I find myself mirroring Sebastian’s grin. “As long as it’s not the macaroni and cheese, I’m down for whatever.”

“I’ll make sure it’s not on your list of duties.”

“Thank you, sir.” I turn around to face him, knowing I should be wrapping my hair up because steam is already filling the bathroom but holding off because a random question just popped up in my head, and now that I’m thinking of it, I have to know the answer. “Hey, where would we have done Thanksgiving at anyway? If I would have said yes to hosting, I mean.”

He closes the shower door and looks at me. There’s something odd about his expression. “Umm, I hadn’t thought that far, but probably here.”

“Here?” The bathroom is growing more humid by the minute, so I turn and grab my scarf, rushing through the process of wrapping my hair while Sebastian watches. “Why wouldn’t we do it at your place?”

Even with the steam billowing around us, I can still read the discomfort on Sebastian’s face. It’s in the shifting of his eyes and the press of his lips, in the tensing of his jaw and the seconds he lets pass by in complete silence while I wait for a response.

“Because I’m in between places right now,” he says finally, and if he was anyone else—like a man whose wealth I have not only benefited from but seen with my own two eyes—I’d be worried that he was on some con-man, drifter shit.

“In between places,” I repeat. “Is that rich people speak for I own so much shit I can sleep at a different place every night of the week?”

His lips curve into a brilliantly cocky grin. “Something like that.”

My response, which is more of a request for him to elaborate on how many places we’re talking about specifically, is interrupted by the unmistakably loud whirring of a power tool. Sebastian and I share an incredulous look, and he glances at his watch.

“Who the fuck is doing construction right now?”

“Maybe the neighbors?” I can’t get any more specific than that because I’ve been living here for almost a month now, and I’ve yet to see anyone but the construction guys I spotted the other day coming or going from the other unit on this floor. “When I came home from work last week, I saw some men taking in some glass panels and metal frames.” Sebastian frowns and pulls out his phone, which makes me wonder if maybe there is another problem. “Is that not allowed?”

“What?” He glances at me. “Oh, yeah, construction is fine as long as there are permits. The issue is with the timing. No one should be using power tools at this time of night.”

“Oh, well maybe it was just a one off.”

“Maybe.”

Now that my hair is wrapped, I set about shedding the heather gray sweater dress I wore today. Sebastian runs appreciative eyes over my frame, and when I take off my bra, revealing hardened nipples that are pointing right at him, he sucks in a deep breath.

“Are you going to join me in the shower?” I ask, shimmying out of my lace panties.

“Do you really have to ask?” He murmurs with dark eyes set on me. His hands go to his waist, his fingers are on his belt. My mouth is watering with anticipation when the charged silence between us is broken once again by whatever is happening on the other side of the wall.

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