I stand up, and the room tilts on its axis. My vision blurs for a second and tries to readjust. One moment, Sebastian is sitting, and the next, he’s standing right in front of me, holding the sides of my arms, and smelling like a cool night at the beginning of winter.
“I—”
“Sit down,” he says, guiding me back onto the couch and kneeling in front of me.
He plants a hand on my forehead, and my vision snaps back into focus.
“I’m fine.” I push his hand away, even though I’m not really sure.
I should know better than to start drinking on an empty stomach, but I’ve been too stressed to be hungry these past couple of days.
“You almost fell the fuck over.” Sebastian’s voice is as gritted as his teeth.
“I’m a lightweight.” I run my hands over my hair and down my sides, trying to pull myself together, and his eyes follow them every inch of the way. “I’m sure the shots didn’t help when there was nothing in my stomach to soak it up.”
“You haven’t eaten.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
He stands up and pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“You don’t have to—”
Sebastian holds a finger up to me and starts talking to someone over the phone before I can finish. He’s ordering burgers, tacos, and anything else that he can think up off the top of his head. Finally hanging up, he turns to face me.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I say flatly.
“I know.”
I’m not sure why he’s taking me on as his pet project. Like he feels so much guilt about screwing around with Myth’s little sister that he needs to take care of me? I didn’t ask that of him. Besides, I’m used to taking care of myself. Myth might have been older in age, but he never acted like it. I was the one who looked after him when we were younger, checked in when he got quiet, worried when he went on tour. He was a loose cannon.
I’m used to relying on myself to keep it together.
But Sebastian’s face doesn’t leave much room for argument, and I don’t have the energy, so I drop it.
I kick my legs up onto the couch and lie back with my head against one of the arms. My head might as well be on a merry-go-round with the constant spinning. I didn’t think I drank that much, but my body’s telling me otherwise.
With me settled, Sebastian relaxes into the chair he occupied a moment ago, and it feels like I’m letting him win, which I don’t like.
I didn’t expect it to be this difficult to be around him. At least when he was avoiding me, I could stay irritated. But the second he shows me an ounce of attention, I start breaking up everything he says and does into pieces I can analyze. While he might easily dismiss the night we had together and never look back, I’m finding it impossible.
He’s a rock star.
He’s a heart breaker.
He’s Sebastian Kane.
All arguments my heart needs to hide behind.
“What’s that?” I tip my head to a notepad sitting on the coffee table.
Sebastian’s eyes follow my line of sight. “Working on some music. We head back into the studio after this tour.”
“May I?” I sit up and reach for the notebook, and Sebastian nods.
There are words scribbled all over the pages. Some are lines, some are paragraphs. A few rogue words repeated over and over again. It’s a picture of chaos, and it makes me wonder if this is what it’s like being in Sebastian’s head.
“Angel of life, angel of death,” I read. “My angel draining me of every last breath. Drag me to hell or drag me home. Take all you want, just don’t leave me alone.”
Sebastian hums, like it kicks up the sounds of the chords in his head.