Page 22 of One Week Wingman

And way too attractive.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Seb adds. “Clearly, Stefano couldn’t resist you.”

I shake my head and try not to look at the curve of his biceps.Since when does Seb work out?“This was a terrible mistake,” I despair.

“Oh, come on,” Sebastian soothes me. “It was fun! Your family is great. Your sister is adorable.”

“My sister was feeling up my ex right there at the dinner table, and no one but me seemed to find it weird.”

“Ah yes, Jason.” He bounces up to unzip his leather weekend bag. “What was the deal with you two?”

“The deal was, we were high school sweethearts, crazy in love.” I reply, with a nostalgic sigh. “Sophomore and junior years of high school, all the way up to when he left for college. And then, well, long-distance didn’t exactly work out for us. He dumped me for a girl in his history class, over Christmas break. And now fast-forward ten years, he’s… with Daisy.” I shake my head. “It’s still so weird to me.”

Straightening up, Seb starts to unbutton his shirt. “It’s not ideal, I’ll admit. But they seem happy together. And if it’s all water under the bridge to you…”

I suddenly realize I’m watching my very own Sebastian Wainwright striptease, as he casually pops open button after button. His chest is lightly tanned and sprinkled with hair, and as he goes lower, I can make out a trail of dark hair on his lower stomach, sneaking down to—

“Wait!” I blurt, flushing, before he can unzip his jeans. “Shouldn’t we have some, you know, ground rules for this whole thing?”

Seb pauses. “Like what?”

“Well, for a start, I don’t need to see any of…that.” I gesture vaguely at his half-naked body.

Seb smirks. “That would make you a rare breed, indeed.”

I roll my eyes. “And you can quit it with all the fake flirting, too. We’re alone now, there’s no one to impress, just me.”

Seb’s smile turns more genuine. “Sorry, I guess I just got caught up in the Stefano of it all.”

He pulls on an old soccer shirt, and burps, scratching at his crotch.

“That’s more like it,” I relax. This Seb, I can handle. Seductive, half-naked Seb in full-on smolder mode?

Well, that’s another story. A dangerous one, I would rather ignore until tomorrow.

I grab my pajamas. “Can you please turn around? I can’t go change in the bathroom, in case mom wonders why I’m so modest in front of my own boyfriend.”

“But of course. I’m a gentleman.” Seb makes a show of turning his back, so I do the same, quickly stripping off my clothes and pulling on my oversized flannel PJs.

“OK, I’m done,” I announce, and turn—to find he’s changed too, into a pair of grey sweatpants.

Dangerously paper-thin, skin-hugging sweatpants that show every outline of his—

Goods.

I avert my eyes.

“Nice jammies,” he says with a grin, rearranging the pillows and bedding down on the floor. “Real sexy.”

“It may come as a surprise, but women don’t walk around like a Victoria’s Secret catalog twenty-four-seven,” I inform him, sliding into bed and turning out the light.

“Noo,” he pretends to groan. “Don’t ruin the illusion. Next thing you’ll be telling me, women don’t have pillow-fights at sleepovers and take group bubble-baths.”

I snort with laughter. “Just what kind of porn are you watching?”

“Why?” He props himself on one elbow, looking up at me in the dim light. “Do you have some recommendations?” Seb waggles his eyebrows. “Wanna watch? We can keep the volume low so your parents don’t hear.”

“Seb!” I blurt, half-laughing, half-cringing from the thought of watching porn with my parents right down the hall.

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