Page 18 of Worth the Heat
“In case we were followed. I highly doubt someone would be dumb enough to follow past my Clubhouse, but you never know. Better safe than sorry,mi Cielo. I won’t play with your safety.”
Why does my heart skip a beat each time he calls me his sky?
Once the door is closed, we both exit the car. Sebastian retrieves my things from the trunk and motions for me to follow him into the house. He stops at a security panel, quickly punching in a code to turn off the system. “The code is one-one-zero-nine-nine-four.”
Holy shit.
“Is that —” I stop, swallowing roughly. “That’s my birthday.”
Sebastian looks over his shoulder, a soft smile on his face. “I know.”
What the fuck?
“That’s — but — Sebastian!” I sputter, audibly panting as my heart rate increases.
“Come on. Let me show you to the guest room.”
“Wait! I — just wait. Why the hell is my birthday your security code?”
He steps closer to me, so close I have to tilt my head to look up at him. He cups my cheek tenderly as he smiles. “You’re not ready for that yet.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask exasperatedly.
Sebastian chuckles. “You’re getting there. I’m pretty patient, so I’m cool with waiting you out.”
“This is ridiculous. Just tell me why.”
“In due time.”
“When will that time be, exactly?”
“That is all up to you.”
“What is?”
“When you see.”
“What am I supposed to see?” I snap.
“What I see.”
I throw my head back in frustration. “You’re talking in riddles.”
He smiles goofily at me. “I’m not. You aren’t ready. But you will be.”
“I am so pissed at you right now,” I mutter, stepping back from him, immediately missing the warmth that emanated from his nearness.
“No, you’re not,” he says with a chuckle. Another wink as hecontinues, “I’m not the one in control here. You are. So you’re actually pissed at yourself.”
He’s not completely wrong, as I’m definitely irritated that I can’t figure out his stupid riddle. For some time, my entire family has said that he’s got a thing for me. He’s flirted with me here and there, but also said some really stupid things in my presence that have made me think he doesn’t have the highest opinion of me. He’s asked me out, said it would be a privilege to take me on a date … but I’ve been burned so many times that I don’t know who I can trust anymore.
“Come on. Let’s get you settled in the guest room,” he says, grabbing my hand, being careful to avoid jostling Butterscotch in my arms, and walks through the house. With no lights on, I can’t make out any room specifics, but I can tell there’s a large kitchen, and a living room that seems to have a two-story ceiling. We quickly coast up a curved staircase, and Sebastian points to a double-door entry. “That’s my room. Just in case you need anything.”
I cough to cover a snort. I may not truly understand his intentions, but even I got the undertones on that comment.
We cross a hallway overlooking the first floor, then Sebastian enters the first room on the left. Turning on the light, I see a large four-poster bed with mounds of fluffy bedding covering it. Beautiful hand-painted mountain images bracket the bed, and dark wood nightstands sit on each side. He pulls me across the room to another doorway, swatting a light switch that illuminates the en suite bathroom. “I texted ahead and had someone put a litter box in here for Butterscotch. I hope that’s okay. There are some toiletry items in here if you need anything. Unused, of course. I mean new. New things. But anything you can’t find I probably have in my bathroom. I keep everything I can think of on hand. You know, for emergencies.”
“You bring a lot of women here after their apartments aretrashed?” I ask, a sharpness to my voice I didn’t expect. I have no reason to be jealous of anything Sebastian does, yet I am.
