Page 38 of The Pretender

His eyes harden. “No. Just leave it in the tub. It needs a good rinse.”

And he needs a good punch in the dick.

“Sebastian.”

“Valentina.”

“I swear I will drown you in the toilet. Give me the combination.”

We have a stare off for a few seconds but then he finally gives in. “22, 18, 24.”

I turn the dial clockwise, then counterclockwise, before turning the final number clockwise and popping the lock. I don’t get excited to finally have my chair free, even though I really, really want to. Instead, I lift it out of tub, only struggling a little before setting it down.

I turn back to the tub and twist the knob on the shower, feeling the spray until it warms. “Have you not showered since you stole my chair?” I ask him. What’s it been? Like two days?

He makes a noise that sounds amused. “Of course I have. I take it out during the day, so I can pile dirty laundry on it. At night, it goes back to the time-out tub.”

I should have had Juan poison him.

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious. Take a shower and try not to drown. I don’t want to have to cover your dick when I call 911.” I shiver like the thought is disgusting.

He waves me off. “Glad you broke in to check on me,” he says. “You can go home now and tell Juan your plot fell through.”

I side-eye him and open the closet, grabbing a towel and setting it on the counter. “Get in the shower, Bash.”

I go with Bash. Not Sebastian but Bash. The name I used to call him when we were friends. He swallows and stares at me for a beat but then pushes off the counter. “Are you going to watch me get naked?” he asks, pulling back the curtain and giving me a smirk that usually annoys the fuck out of me. But it doesn’t today. I guess it’s because I think he had to force it. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he seemed almost shy. But we’re both feeling a whole lot of awkward right now, so maybe that is it.

Friends don’t let friends see their ding dongs.

I grin. “I’ll spare my eyes, thank you.”

I close the bathroom door behind me and let my head fall back onto the door.

Don’t do this, Vee. He wouldn’t do it for you. Would he?

I think Sebastian would have taken care of me—at least at one point in time. It’s also what a girlfriend would do, even a fake one.

Ugh. This is such a bad idea.

I push off the door and head back through the living room and hall, leaving the front door unlocked while I dart across the greenspace between our houses. I grab my bookbag and a tote, filling it with crackers, Gatorade, and popsicles—all stuff Aspen and I raided from the guys’ house the other day when we had forgotten to go to the store. Lastly, I snatch Sebastian’s pillow that currently has a yellow pillowcase on it. Yes, I’ve slept on it while I’m holding it hostage. Sebastian is not wrong. I sleep great with it.

Hightailing it back to Sebastian’s, I slip through the door and unload the groceries onto his counter. When I have everything put away, I snag a blanket from his hall closet and lay it on the sofa with his precious pillow.

“Sebastian?” I knock on the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”

The door opens before I can knock again. His hair is dripping wet and the towel I put out for him is around his waist. “I need pants.”

I grin and step aside. “By all means, get pants.”

He grunts out something I can’t make out and brushes past me. I leave him in his room to dress and head back out to the kitchen. I pull a glass from the cabinet and fill it with ice and pour the Gatorade over top.

“Are you trying to finish off Juan’s piss-poor job of poisoning me?”

I grin, not bothering to turn around quite yet. “Not today.”

Sebastian approaches and I finally get a good look at him post shower. He looks rumpled and clean in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt that somehow manages to brighten up his pale coloring. He takes a seat at the island and lays his head on the bar top. He looks exhausted and plain pitiful.

My chest clenches. I might like to aggravate him, but I don’t like seeing him miserable and in pain. “You want to try drinking something?”

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