Page 83 of Wreck Me

I put my phone down on the breakfast bar island, then rummaged in the fridge, the ingredients I found determining what I was going to make.

Before I knew it, I was immersed in the idea of whipping up breakfast-in-bed for Skylar.

I couldn’t wait to see that look she got when she was touched by something. She looked so happy and also confounded at the same time, and her lips pulled into this cute little smile, her beautiful emerald eyes shining brightly.

Jesus. Cute? She really was affecting me in ways I couldn’t seem to get a handle on.

Truth was, I didn’t want to.

That would mean cutting it off, cutting her off.

Not a chance in hell.

I was so immersed in the task at hand that thirty minutes flew right on by.

I found a couple of plates and set about dishing out the food I’d made. Then I added a couple of glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice that I found in the door of the fridge, and poured two coffees. Hers I made strong and black, the way she somehow liked it. Or, how she’d had it served to her at the café that day—yes, I’d been watching from the shadows long before I’d actually approached her, choosing the most opportune moment when she’d been getting frustrated with her school project. What? I’d needed an in. It wasn’t my fault she’d been so standoffish that I’d had to operate that way with her.

After last night, though, I was hoping that was over and done with.

It felt different now.

Just as I finished up, my phone buzzed on the island by my plate.

I tensed, thinking it was Cal realizing I wasn’t actually at the mansion, and then putting two and two together.

Fortunately, as I took in the notification, it wasn’t him. Good, he had to be too occupied with Cas and their weekend-long fuckfest. Cas didn’t usually let him come up for air, wanting them both fully-immersed. It had obviously just been my paranoia and possibly a little bit of guilt at going around them both by coming here to Skylar.

I was smiling like a fool as I took in the sender instead.

Skylar: Did you leave?

My smile only grew as I ran a mile with the subtext of her question. Not to mention, the fact that one of the first things—possibly the first thing—she’d thought to do when she’d woken up was to reach out to me.

It boded really well.

Perhaps this obsession wasn’t so one-sided anymore.

Sebastian: What if I did?

Dots appeared at the bottom of my screen, then disappeared, before reappearing again.

Finally, she messaged back.

Skylar: Then it would be par for the course.

I started at her response.

She was being… vulnerable.

Sebastian: That first time, you shoved me away right after I’d made you come. You were overwhelmed. The second time, Cal took the choice away from me. If I hadn’t agreed, he and Caspian would’ve blocked my way to you with much more definitive action than they already ended up taking.

Skylar: I wasn’t talking about you. And that last part is fucked-up, it’s not their call.

I smiled.

Sebastian: Glad you feel that way. Guess you’re over the whole hating me thing, huh?

Skylar: Maybe.

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