Page 6 of Sebastian's Baby

“No, I just mean I would’ve remembered if I’d ever read anything that said you were Italian. I haven’t.” Lita shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not like Sebastian is a traditional Italian name, and your last name is Fox.”

“Mom’s side. I’m led to believe my nonna was horrified by the choice of the name Sebastian. ‘He looks like an Angelo, not a Sebastian.’ But here I am, Sebastian Fox,” I laugh, and Lita laughs with me.

Her laugh is seductive; it calls to me and makes me want her in my bed even more. I like making her laugh; when she drops her defenses, she is amazing.

“Oh, I can imagine. We all have very Italian names, but my parents are Italian, and both my nonnas would much prefer the name Angelo too.”

“Sebastian Fox, disappointing nonnas everywhere since 1991,” I grin at her.

“How traditional is your family?” she asks me.

“Traditional enough to make passata together every year.”

My mom’s family all get together, and it’s wild and fun having everyone in the same place. My family doesn’t give a shit about me being a rock star, and I get bossed around just as much as my cousins do, which is amusing to me.

“We do, too,” she grins back at me. “Best day of the year.”

“Better than your birthday? You reallyareItalian.” I winkat her.

“Oh, now you’re asking the tough questions.” She pauses for a second, seeming to consider my inquiry. “Nope, Tomato Sauce Day is definitely better!”

“Geeze, Lolita, somebody needs to make your birthday better if it doesn’t beat Tomato Sauce Day.” I’m shocked, because who doesn’t love their birthday?

“You’d better tell Becky she needs to pick up her game for next weekend,” she laughs.

“It’s your birthday next weekend?” I ask, wondering how old she is.

I don’t have to wonder for long because she says, “Yeah, I’m officially going to be old. Becky’s been busy organizing my thirtieth birthday party. I was so glad when Stephanie gave me two options for tonight; if it had only been on the twenty-sixth of June, I’d have been screwed.”

“Would you have ditched your party or us?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“Would you have rescheduled if I’d wanted to?” she asks, and she can probably guess my answer.

I grin widely at her because, knowing what I know now, fuck yes, I would have rescheduled.

“Probably not,” I reply, instead.

“Well, my friends and family would. Luckily, I never had to find out, though,” she winks at me, apparently completely unaware of how much she’s turning me on.

“Lucky, indeed, princess,” I say, grateful as fuck that she is here tonight, with all the sexual promises that she holds.

Just like that, the sexual tension is back between us. It disappeared while we were talking about our families. I can see the moment that Lita feels its return, and I watch her take a long drink from the cocktail that Giovanni brought her with our meals. Her lips wrapped around the straw she is drinking from makes me envisage her lips wrapped around me instead.

I start eating my osso bucco as Hayden takes over the conversation. He’s telling Becky about our time in Seattle last year when we were there for theHeart Wide Opentour. Lita twirls some spaghetti around her fork and puts it in her mouth.

As she chews, I ask her, “How is your carbonara, princess?”

“Amazing, this pasta is handmade,” she replies once she swallows her mouthful.

“Of course. Do you think I would take a woman to an Italian restaurant that didn’t?”

“Well, you didn’t bring me here, so I wouldn’t know,” she says to me with a laugh.

“Come back to Chicago next weekend, and I’ll bring you back here,” I tell her before I can stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

Where the fuck did that come from? I don’t do second dates. Shit, I don’t even do first dates. We fuck tonight, and then I never see her again. That’s how it goes—every time.

“Sorry, Sebastian Fox, I’m busy next weekend. You’ll have to find some other poor woman to torture instead.”

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