Chapter 3 Marfil #2
That was a relief. I’d been afraid my father had sent someone to clean out my dance studio and that Sebastian would’ve already set up his bedroom in there.
I was aware that he was doing me a favor, since the other room was much smaller and less comfortable, but I didn’t want to give up my favorite part of the house. It was my apartment, after all.
“Well… I’m going to my room,” I said, and then turned around and walked away without waiting for him to respond. He made me too nervous.
My bedroom was a mess, just as I’d left it.
For some inexplicable reason, I decided to clean up, entering into an almost manic fit of organizing.
I don’t know if I did it because I felt so anxious or because I couldn’t just go out into the living room and lie on the couch like I usually would.
I felt like I was losing my mind, but I kept cleaning until the room was spotless.
Satisfied over what I had accomplished, I finally allowed myself to take a look at my phone. I had a text from Liam, letting me know he would be here in an hour. At least that would give me an excuse to take back the living room.
After my shower, I changed into my favorite blue jeans and a white comfy shirt, then stood in front of the mirror examining myself carefully. What did Sebastian see when he looked at me?
For as long as I could remember, everyone around me had always complimented me on my looks.
The other girls at boarding school either hated me or envied me.
It took me a long time to gain the acceptance of my classmates and the nuns, who had once been brutal, always saying I was a walking sin.
I didn’t fully understand what they’d meant until I met Liam and he finally explained it to me.
“Do you have any idea what a babe you are?” he’d asked me once, lying in my bed—me in nothing but a long-sleeve T-shirt and underwear, and him in sweatpants, shirtless—the night we did more than just kissing for the first time.
“I know that whatever it is you see has nothing to do with what I am,” I’d answered, without feeling flattered.
Sure, I was pretty, but when being pretty meant that people never looked beyond your appearance, beauty could become your worst enemy, especially with a rebellious personality like mine.
It wasn’t until later that I discovered the power I had over others and learned how to take advantage of it.
If men were going to treat me like an object, not like a sentient being with a brain, I would treat them no differently.
I walked out of my bedroom feeling like an intruder in my own home. I had stayed in there for longer than my restless personality could bear.
The living room was empty, but when I looked down the long hallway, I saw a dim light under his bedroom door. I imagined he’d spend most of his time in there.
I sighed and made my way over to the fridge. I should’ve gone grocery shopping days ago. There was absolutely nothing in the apartment—even the toilet paper had run out.
As I put on my sneakers, I began to make a mental note of everything I needed from the store.
It wasn’t cold enough for my big jacket, so I left it on the hook and grabbed my bag.
Once at the door, I paused for a few seconds.
Did I have to tell him I was going to the store? It was only a block away…
My instincts told me I should let him know.
I walked down the hall and timidly knocked on his door.
This was so strange.
He opened it a few seconds later, casually leaning on the wall with one arm and slightly holding the door ajar with his other, as if intentionally keeping me from peeking inside.
I couldn’t help but take him all in, from his rolled-up sleeves to his right arm covered in tattoos to the thick, black-framed glasses, which made him look intellectual and caused my brain to temporarily short-circuit.
I was painfully aware that by staring like this, I was becoming the same kind of objectifier I despised, but he had me completely spellbound. Besides, it wasn’t like I knew much else about him.
Clearing my head, I forced myself to focus. “I need to go to the store to pick up a few things.”
Sebastian nodded. “Give me just a second, please.”
He turned around, and I took the opportunity to glance into the room.
It looked nothing like the storage dump it had been a week ago.
Granted, all I could see from the doorway was a black leather chair and a pretty white rug, but still.
I watched as Sebastian sat down in front of an open laptop, typed something quickly, and then closed it with a frown.
Had I interrupted something important?
“Right behind you,” he said, snapping me out of my trance.
Outside, on the street, it felt very strange to have him walking beside me. My father’s security guards had always either walked behind him or out in front of him. But Sebastian did so right next to me, as if he were my friend.
“Is it always going to be like this?” I asked as we entered the small supermarket.
“Is what going to be like this, Marfil?”
Hearing him pronounce my name sparked too many emotions to ignore, although I did everything possible to go on talking as if the guy next to me in the shampoo, makeup, and tampon aisle was just some regular guy. Tampons… shit, I needed those, too.
Was I going to have to buy tampons in front of him?
“Like, you always with me even when I just need to go to the deli.”
“Yes,” he answered curtly.
I looked at him, annoyed by his response.
I grabbed shampoo and toilet paper but left the tampons behind, then pushed the cart over to the wine section.
I picked up a bottle of white and put it in the cart.
Sebastian didn’t say a word, so I continued shopping, picking up a pack of Heineken and then stopping in the fruit section.
As I carefully selected some strawberries and apples, it dawned on me that Sebastian would have to eat, too.
I was about to say his name when I noticed his eyes were fixed on the shop entrance. I looked in that direction. Two guys, more or less his age, had just entered.
“Do you need anything?” I asked him.
“What?” he replied, now facing me, distracted.
“Food. There’s nothing in the apartment unless you get it delivered.”
Sebastian shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of my own meals.”
I shrugged and continued filling my cart with potato chips, olives, milk, sugar, and a pie from the bakery section.
As I waited in line to pay, I noticed that Sebastian had not stopped scanning the place the entire time; his eyes had never been still.
His presence was more imposing than any bodyguard my father had ever had, and as the cashier eyed him suspiciously, it dawned on me that with his body like a Greek god, he probably made other people wary.
I looked at his black suit pants and white shirt. How the hell was I going to take him to school with me looking like that?
After I paid for the groceries using my father’s Centurion card—or rather, my extension of it—Sebastian picked up my bags and carried them in his right hand, leaving his left free.
I hadn’t bought that much, but there were some bottles and other heavy items. I offered to help him, but he refused with a simple shake of the head.
My mind raced as we headed back. There were so many things I wanted to know about him.
That was why I’d never liked bodyguards; it was impossible for me to be around another person without talking to them.
As a little girl, before being sent away to school, my nannies would have to change shifts hourly because I was so exhausting.
Or so my father told me when listing his reasons for sending me to boarding school abroad.
“Sometimes, Marfil, you don’t realize how annoying you can be. You’re just a girl—it’s understandable—but keep quiet in my presence,” he’d said to me more than once.
Eventually, I’d learned to stay silent, but only for short periods of time.
“Are you left-handed?” I asked Sebastian as we walked side by side.
He looked at me with furrowed brows.
“You’re carrying all the weight in your right hand. Not because you’re right-handed, but because you want to have your left hand free to grab your gun if you need to, right?”
He tilted his head slightly, and I noticed a hitch in his lips that almost looked like a smile, almost. “I’m ambidextrous, but yes, I’m a bit more comfortable with my left hand.”
Ambidextrous… I looked at his hands, the left hanging loose at his side, the other carrying the bags as if they were filled with feathers instead of full bottles.
Without warning, I imagined those hands gripping me tightly, moving down my back, up my legs…
I put my sunglasses back on and ignored him for the rest of the walk home.
Fortunately for my mental well-being, Sebastian went straight to his part of the apartment and left me to put away the groceries. He offered to give me a hand, but I wanted to be alone. I assured him that it wasn’t necessary, and he didn’t insist on helping.
The doorbell rang just as I was finishing putting everything away in the fridge.
I knew it was Liam, so I rushed to the door, excited to see my best friend.
But as I crossed the hallway, I crashed straight into a human wall, much harder than I thought possible.
Large hands wrapped around my forearms, halting my rush to open the door.
“Are you expecting someone?”
His touch caused me to feel chills all throughout my body. Sebastian, however, quickly pulled his hands away, as if my skin burned him.
“It’s a friend of mine,” I said, stepping forward.
He placed a hand on the door above my head, stopping me from opening it.
I turned toward him, frowning.
“Who is it? They didn’t even use the buzzer.”
“He has keys.”
Sebastian shook his head and pressed his lips together. “You give out keys to just anyone?”
“I give keys to my best friend.”
“Hey, Mar! Open up, fuck, I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t see you.”
I put my hands on my hips.
“What’s his name?”