Page 44 of Sebastian

I don’t need to tell him that I was trying to plow Chloe full of margaritas so she would have drunken, messy sex with me. That’s none of his business, especially since it didn’t happen.

Paolo raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“So, you lied to me so she could come over and have fun with you?”

“I won’t confirm or deny that, but it worked out well in the end.” I wink to imply my point. “Why? You bothered or something?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. I distinctly remember you saying older women were my thing. And that you didn’t date.”

“I did. And I don’t.” I steal a spring roll to shove in my mouth when my stomach growls again. “But we’re seeing where this goes.”

I raise my shoulders in a casual shrug, unsure where it will go. I like Chloe. I like fucking Chloe. And I like hanging out with Chloe. I won’t worry about the rest right now.His eyes narrow, suspicious of my intentions. Well, I am too. This is out of the norm for me, but I’m committed to trying it with her. She’s been fun so far, so why not keep it up?

“Just don’t screw things up.”

Paolo swipes the chopsticks that I threw at him and tosses them at me. They go slightly off course, hitting me in the side of the head. When I turn to see Taylor and Chloe walking into the room, their eyes widening in surprise, I go into major theatrics, similarly collapsing into the chair as Paolo did when I punched him.

“Ah, Chloe, it hurts so bad.” I clap my hand over my head, cowering in my chair. “Save me from him.”

Taylor slips past Paolo, her hands lingering on his shoulders when he smiles at her. Their affection is evident in how they look at each other—something I noticed at the Christmas party and made the spot in my chest ache with longing.

“What did you do to cause him to do that?” Chloe raises an accusing eyebrow. “I’ve known Paolo longer than I have known you, and he would never do something like that unprovoked.”

I slide the chopsticks to the middle of the table, chuckling at my absurdity.

“You know me, always causing trouble.”

She sets the drinks on the table and sits in the last available chair.

“Well, this is turning into a nice surprise.”

She beams at me brightly, and pride fills me. When she texted that she couldn’t do lunch, I was more disappointed thanI should have been for only knowing her a couple of days. Then again, my dick knows her quite well, so maybe not too weird.

“Should we do it family style?” Chloe says, grabbing a container and putting some on her plate before passing it to Paolo.

Having no clue what family style is, I lean back in my chair, content to watch her interact in her world. She’s been in mine. I want to be in hers. Hell, I’d sit here all day and watch her work. Something about her wild side being pinned up behind her tight little suit and sky-high heels is getting me hard under this table. We’re definitely going to have to role-play office romance in my study tonight.

“Sebastian?”

The mostly empty container lingers in the air before me with a question I don’t hear when all eyes turn to me.

“Yes,” I answer when Taylor gives me a funny look, and Chloe looks annoyed.

I guess it’s not the correct answer because she dumps the container on my plate and returns to dishing out the pork thing. As much as I try to focus on their conversation, I give up when it switches to work—preferring to lose myself in Chloe’s presence, charm, and ability to connect with them. It’s not just her beauty that captivates me but also her personality and the way she effortlessly enjoys those around her.

I remain quiet through most of lunch, eating the different dishes and watching them interact, surprised at how easily their camaraderie flows. When an urgent call takes Chloe unexpectedly away, and Taylor leaves to get more water, Paolo turns his attention to me.

“You’re ridiculous.”

I furrow my brows in response.

“What?”

As I lower my fork to my plate, my stomach growls in disagreement, causing a rumble that doesn’t go unnoticed by Paolo.

“You hate Thai food, yet you’re eating it here. I can even hear your stomach.” He leans over and plucks the last spring roll from my plate, saving me from having to eat it. I could kiss him for that. “You’re such a goner.”

“I don’t hate it. It hates me, though. I’ll tell you that.”

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