CHAPTER TWELVE #2
“There’s no point in pretending otherwise,” he says easily.
“I want to help you and you’re the perfect person to help me heal my back.
” He takes a drink of his coconut water.
“The sooner you admit you’re curious and that you want to get to know me, the easier this will be.
And just so we’re clear, this life …” He pats the patch over his heart.
“It isn’t black and white, and we are not all alike. ”
He’s so fucking sure of himself it’s contagious. But he isn’t wrong. I’m curious about working for him—and also who he is …
“And just how long would I work for you?”
“How long will it take to see a difference if I do exactly what you say when it comes to a rehab plan?” he tosses back.
I take a sip of my drink before I answer. “Maybe you’ll notice a difference within a month if you’re dedicated, but it is a long-term process.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I have lots of time, and there isn’t a worry about me being dedicated,” he says. I think of his abs and don’t doubt him. “So it’s settled. You work with me, and in turn I’ll pay the balance of your tuition for the year.”
I just about choke on the sip I’m taking before folding my arms over my chest, looking out at the busy restaurant. “That’s twenty-four hundred dollars.”
Sean doesn’t even flinch at the number. “Done. Seems worth it to me.”
My mouth falls open. Now I’m really curious about where and how he gets his money. “I’m not a whore,” I blurt out.
Sean leans back and watches me for a beat, using his napkin to dab at his mouth and then folding it perfectly in half before setting it down. The silence between us after that statement is deafening.
“If you were, you wouldn’t be sitting here.” His voice is deep and even. Just the sound alone makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “And if anyone ever suggested you were a whore, I’d rip their tongue out with my bare hands.”
His jaw tics so aggressively I fear he may tear a tendon. He taps his first two fingers on the table for a beat, then a moment later he’s breathing deeper, calmer.
“An excellent personal trainer, a massage therapist, and physiotherapy would all separately cost me more than your fee, so in my opinion having one person handle everything is worth it. And if that means you have to spend time with me, then all the better.”
I say nothing as I register that he’s probably right about the cost of all those things, but still, I weigh up my options.
“I don’t fuck around. I don’t like to beat around the bush.
” His voice is gravel as those green eyes pull me in again.
“You’re more than welcome to pretend that you won’t want me to touch you, that this will remain purely professional.
But you’d be lying to yourself.” He smirks.
“Lucky for you I’m extremely patient, and I’ll wait until you’re begging me to touch you again if that makes you more comfortable. Because you will.”
I laugh and avert my eyes from his. He’s so damn cocky.
“Again, I’d like to point out this is not normal behavior for two people who just met,” I reiterate. Everything between us feels so charged, so intense. It can’t be real.
“And again, I’d like to remind you that I don’t give a fuck what anyone but me and you think,” Sean says gruffly.
“What makes you so sure I’ll be begging for it?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
“Because, Layla, I may not be the man you think you want, but I am the man you need. And soon, you’ll see what I already know.”
Fuck. Well that just hit me some kind of way,
He eyes me up, shock flickering in those depths at my unwillingness to instantly agree to whatever the sergeant wants. “Fuck it, I don’t even need the month, I’ll do it in half that time.”
“You can’t heal in two weeks. My clinic is fully booked, I wouldn’t be able to get you in for at least a week.”
“No, you misunderstand me. If I’m right, which I normally am, I’ll show you this connection between us is real and there’s no reason to fight it. And when you realize that to be true, I can promise you, you’ll be begging to be mine …” His eyes smolder. “Before those two weeks are up.”
Hearing him say those words sends a flush to my cheeks that I can’t control. The thought of being his.
“You’re even crazier than I thought.” I force a laugh, incredulous. “You can’t convince someone they’re your soulmate in two weeks, Sean,” I tell him, liking the way his name sounds and feels rolling off my tongue.
“The fuck I can’t.” He takes a big drink of his coconut water.
“You expect me to believe all I have to do is help you heal your back, and you’ll pay me twenty-four hundred dollars?”
“I don’t like to repeat myself,” he says. “But yes. I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had actually.” His face is smug and satisfied as he pulls his buzzing phone out to check a text.
I blow out a raspberry and pick up a fry, my appetite coming back while he responds to the message. I swallow slowly, just thinking, his cockiness fueling me.
“So, you agree then?” he asks, sliding his phone into his pocket.
I narrow my eyes and take my lower lip between my teeth for a beat, balancing on the point of a knife.
Sean leans forward and pulls my hand toward him. “So we’re clear, I can’t for the life of me figure out why the fuck I’m so drawn to you either, which is why I’m committed to finding out.”
“So I’m a puzzle that needs solving?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You’ve perplexed me,” he answers. So yes.
I slip my hand out from under his and extend it for shaking.
“I agree to take the job,” I say evenly, trying to keep this as professional as possible.
He accepts my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. The feel of my small hand in his large one, the way we fit together, it’s a comfort I feel familiar with already. And I can’t deny our touch makes me feel like there’s a live current rushing back and forth between us.
“Let’s get my number in your phone then, yeah? I like to have my trainer on speed dial.” He smirks.
I pick my phone up and unlock it. “Just one thing.” I set my phone in his hand. “I’m used to looking after myself. And so we’re clear,” I say, throwing his words back at him, “I don’t ever beg anyone for anything.”
That hauntingly beautiful smile takes over his face as he enters his number into my phone and then hands it back, stroking his wide jaw.
“We’ll see, little dove. We’ll see.”
I shake my head and smile. The way he’s so convinced there’s something deep, something otherworldly, between us almost makes me believe him, but I remind myself I have no idea what kind of darkness lurks in his world, or the things he’s seen and done.
I decide maybe I owe it to myself to at least find out, though, because damn, the way he’s looking right now sitting across from me is almost enough to make me give in.
He could change his mind tomorrow, says the little voice in my head, and I know it’s right.
Men like Sean always like the chase. And if that’s what I am, at the very least I’ll help him work on his chronic pain and earn some extra cash.
If he loses interest after that, so be it.
I’ll just remain prepared and professional.
I can do that; I can fight whatever this is I’m feeling.
“Looks like we just made a deal. For now, you belong to me,” Sean says, low and even, holding his hand out. I take it and question my logic and my sanity, because the prospect of belonging to him doesn’t scare me as much as it should, and nor does the feel of my hand in his.
A strange memory I haven’t thought of in a very long time comes to mind as we get ready to leave the restaurant. My mother, just days before she died, out of nowhere said to me, “The devil never comes dressed as your worst nightmare, he comes dressed as everything you never knew you wanted.”
Sean looks at me with that satisfied smirk, as if he already knows I’m his, and I can’t help but feel like maybe I did just sell my soul to the devil himself.