Page 36 of Heart Break Her

“Wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”

The annoyingly gorgeous smirk that tugs on his cheeks forces my spine straighter.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” I say, moving further into the room.

Sebastian’s by the wet bar, and there’s nothing stopping me from slipping back out the door. I should, since he dragged me out of the party like a caveman. But against what my rational mind is telling me, I don’t want to.

“So is that why you interrupted my conversation, to offer me a drink? Because I’m pretty sure there was booze in Rome’s room. As evidenced by the fact thatyou were drinking it.”

I drag out the last part because this is ridiculous. Sebastian hasn’t talked to me since he put me on his plane and brought me on tour with him, but now, all of a sudden, he’s interested?

It’s not like we haven’t been around each other the past couple of days. Merry’s been dragging me along—out to dinner with the band, watching the shows backstage. We might be constantly around large groups of people, but Sebastian has always made sure to position himself at the opposite end of any crowd from where I am. And at tonight’s show, when he walked right past me to get on stage, he refused to even glance in my direction.

There I was, standing two feet from him, and he brushed past without so much as a look, like I’m his leftovers he couldn’t care less about.

It doesn’t matter how long I’ve spent infatuated withthe idea of Sebastian Kane. Now I’ve met him.

I refuse to bethat girl. To anyone, ever.

It doesn’t matter if my heart still skips a beat at the sight of him, or if his performance tonight brought an aching amount of pressure between my legs. I’m no ones to claim how and when they please.

But, of course, he’s decided tonight he’s going to have an issue. God forbid I move on and do the same. It’s not my fault he only just now spotted me at the party because he was too busy with a groupie occupying his lap for the first hour I was there. While his radar didn’t start sending signals until another man put his arm around my shoulders, I knew he was in the room the whole time.

He doesn’t get to put me down and pick me back up when he feels like playing.

No thanks.

“I’m not sure what your deal is, but just because my brother’s dead, doesn’t mean I’m looking for a replacement.” I drop onto the couch and tip my head back as the room spins a little.

My words might be cold, but I don’t care right now. When Myth warned me about fragile rock star egos I kind of figured he was exaggerating. Allmine, mine, mine, andtake, take, take. Apparently, he wasn’t. Sebastian doesn’t get to screw around with me one week, ignore me, and then act like I’m his property the next.

“Good thing I don’t want to be your brother then,” Sebastian says, sitting in one of the recliners and avoiding the couch entirely.

I sit up and grip the couch, leaning forward to bring myself closer to him. “Then what do you want, Sebastian? Because I was under the impression we were putting what happened with us in the past, which means I don’t need you hovering over me acting like a big brother—or worse, some jealous boyfriend—every time a guy puts his arm around me. I’m not a tree for you to pee on and mark your territory. Especially not five seconds after some groupie bangs your mouth with her tongue.”

The look on his face edges the line between amusement and shock.

“Bangs my mouth with her tongue?” He cocks an eyebrow.

I shrug and sit back, crossing my arms over my chest. “If the shoe fits.”

Sebastian stares at me. Those same stormy eyes I remember, hovering over me in his bed while he traced my lip with the pad of his thumb, are locked on mine. I’ve never wanted to escape a room so bad, but at the same time, my body is begging me to stay.

“So, you were into that guy then?” Sebastian asks with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Maybe.” I shrug.

I wasn’t.

Sure, he was attractive, and from what I felt through his thin T-shirt, built from solid muscle, but it was simple flirting. We were talking, laughing, having fun. I wasn’t going to take him back to the bus or blow him in the stairwell.

Regardless of what the world thinks of me right now, I prefer to actually care about the men I bring into my bed.

But I’ll let Sebastian think whatever he wants because he has no right to be glaring at me.

Sebastian sits back, his honey-brown eyes never leaving mine as he takes a drink. His hair is messy, like he showered after the concert and let it dry itself in whatever wild way it deemed fit. And I can’t help but remember what it felt like to tangle my fingers through those thick strands while he kissed me all over.

“Is that all?” I start tapping my foot. “Because if so, I’m going to get back.”

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