Page 80 of Taken Off Camera
Once again, I wake to an empty bed, and panic shoots through me as I’m flooded with flashbacks of Sebastian’s abandonment.
But when I stretch my arm across the vast expanse of the mattress, the sheets still hold a trace of warmth, and my pulse settles. He hasn’t been gone for long, and I’m in his suite. He’s not running away again.
A throat clears, and I jerk upright to find Saint leaning in the entrance to the bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. He’s already dressed in yesterday’s clothes, his expression set in the scowl he reserves for situations he can’t control.
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” I mutter, pulling the sheet up higher over my bare chest. I rubsleep from my eyes, trying to process being awake. “What time is it?”
Gabriel had tried to stuff Saint into a guest room last night, but he refused to leave me alone and opted to sleep on the couch in the front room of Sebastian’s suite instead. The fact that Sebastian has a whole apartment inside the Rockford Manor still boggles my mind.
“Almost nine.” Saint pushes off from the doorway, stepping into the room.
The suite’s sitting area connects to the bedroom through an open archway, through which I can see the couch where Saint spent the night. A pillow and a folded blanket sit on the back, the corners military tight. Saint and I both learned not to leave an impact on the places we stayed growing up, lest we be kicked out.
“Gabriel says breakfast is almost ready,” Saint continues, kicking at the foot of the bed. “Apparently, the Rockfords eat together like some kind of Norman Rockwell painting.”
My stomach knots at the thought. Meeting Sebastian’s family en masse over a cozy cottage breakfast sounds about as fun as being thrown into the deep end of a pool when I never learned how to swim.
The bathroom door opens, and Sebastian emerges in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water cling to his scarred chest, catching the morning light.
My mouth goes dry at the sight.
“Morning.” Ignoring Saint’s presence in his room, Sebastian focuses on me with a warmth that brings a blush to my cheeks. “Did you sleep okay? After…”
“Yeah,” I say, not wanting to revisit last night’s breakdown in front of my friend. “Better than I expected.”
“About breakfast.” Sebastian crosses to a built-in wardrobe, pulling out clothes. “You don’t have to eat with everyone if you’re not comfortable. My family can be… a lot. I can have breakfast sent up here instead.”
The offer tempts me. Hiding away with Sebastian sounds more appealing than facing a table full of strangers who know more about me than I do about them. But I’ve done enough hiding.
“It’s fine.” I push back the covers. “We’ll eat with everyone.”
“You sure?” Sebastian pauses, a shirt half-buttoned. “They’re nosy and they have no boundaries. You don’t owe them anything.”
“I’m sure.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “No special treatment needed.”
Saint snorts. “Special treatment? We’re in a literal mansion, Micah.”
I flip him off without looking, and he laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in the room.
“Go shower.” Saint jerks his chin toward the bathroom. “You stink of sex.”
Heat floods my face. “I do not.”
“Do, too.” Saint wrinkles his nose. “And I had to listen to it for the first half of the night, so hurry up. I need coffee.”
“We were quiet,” I protest, though the memory of Sebastian’s hands on me, his body moving over mine in the limited privacy of his bedroom, makes me wonder how quiet we actually were.
“Not quiet enough,” Saint snorts. “Chop, chop. I’m starving, and I want to experience how the other half lives.”
As I pass, Sebastian draws me over to kiss the top of my head. “I had your clothes cleaned. They’re sitting on the counter, along with a fresh toothbrush. Use whatever you want in the bathroom.”
Ignoring my best friend, I rise onto my toes and pull Sebastian down for a proper kiss. “You shouldhave invited me to shower with you when you got up.”
Fake gagging noises come from Saint, but Sebastian smiles. “I’ll do so next time.”
With a final kiss, I shuffle off into the bathroom, which is bigger than my bedroom at home, all marble and gleaming fixtures.
The shower alone could fit three people, with multiple showerheads that spray from different angles. I stand beneath the hot water, letting it pound away the lingering tension in my muscles.
