Chapter Two #2
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me. Of course he was seeing someone. My chest deflated so fast it almost hurt.
“Boyfriend?” Henry shot me a quick glance. “Like, seriously?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said. “For a couple of months now.”
A couple of months.
He had a boyfriend—and had had one for months. And I’d let myself get my hopes up over a fucking hug? How stupid could I be? Four years spent healing from the trauma that was Sebastian Langley, only to watch the wound reopen in under sixty seconds.
Fucking pathetic.
“Can’t wait to meet him,” I said, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “If he managed to tie you down, he must be the closest thing to a god there is.”
Judging by their expressions, that hadn’t landed.
After a couple of tense seconds, I said, “That was a joke.”
To his credit, Sebastian tried to smile.
Henry rubbed the back of his neck, his expression painfully awkward. “So, pretending this isn’t the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve ever been part of—Ash and I are off to lunch.” He gave me a look that practically begged me to behave. “See you at eight?”
“See you at eight,” I said politely. “It was great seeing you, Ash.”
Sebastian smiled again, lips pressed into a tight line, and nodded once. “Same, Ethan.”
They walked out, and I grabbed my phone, canceling my visit with the landlord.
Well, that was anticlimactic as fuck.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t pictured it going differently.
I’d spent weeks running through scenarios in my head—me cool, collected, and detached.
Him flustered and desperate, the one chasing this time.
In every version, I had the upper hand. And no matter which one—even the ones with stiff hellos, icy silence, or pretending nothing had ever happened—they all ended the same way: him in my bed, the two of us tearing each other apart.
Not with him in a relationship.
Not with him walking away.
Later that day, I paced my room, phone pressed to my ear.
My landlord had insisted on talking to me; apparently, the urgent matter he needed to discuss was that the down payment hadn’t gone through—which made no sense.
He’d already told me another applicant was waiting on the property, and I’d been on hold with the bank for nearly an hour trying to figure out what had happened.
“Mr. Bennett?” a voice came through.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Thank you for your patience. We’ve reviewed the account, and it appears the transaction failed due to insufficient funds.”
I frowned. “That can’t be right. Are you sure you’re checking the correct account?”
There was a short pause, the faint click of keys. Then he read back the account number—the one tied to my trust.
“That’s the one,” I said, a cold weight settling in my chest.
“We’ve also reviewed the recent activity,” the representative continued carefully. “There have been regular withdrawals over the past four months. Substantial ones. It also notes here that there’s a joint account holder?”
My stomach dropped. “Yes.” Fuck. “There is.”
“Were you aware of these transactions? If not, we can open an internal investigation, but since the co-holder is authorized—”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“No, that’s okay,” I cut in quickly. “I’ll handle it privately. Could you send me the current balance?”
“Of course. Would you like me to stay on the line or email the statement?”
“Email’s fine,” I mumbled, swallowing hard against the knot in my throat.
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t have.
“We’ll send it shortly,” the man said before going through the polite routine of ending the call.
As soon as it disconnected, I searched for his number and hit dial. Straight to voicemail. Coincidence. He’s just busy.
I stared at the screen—this had to be a mistake.
Rubbing my knuckles under my nose, my thumb hovered over the call button again, hesitating. But then a text came through.
Creep
you know
That name hadn’t popped up on my phone in years. I’d gone back and forth between blocking and unblocking his number so many times I’d lost count. Before coming here, I’d unblocked it once more—just in case. And here he was.
I stared at the notification until it faded off my screen, my thumb twitching. The screen lit up again. Another message from him.
Curiosity won before common sense could stop me.
Creep
I really hate Henry for his ambush
I smiled to myself. At least that made two of us.
Me
he has a flair for the dramatic
can’t say I’m a fan of it either
Creep
I’m sorry for the freak-out
can we go back to the part where I’m ecstatic you’re here?
My cheeks hurt with how much that last line made me want to grin. Get a fucking grip on yourself. Still, I scrolled up once more, reread his message, and tried to ignore the way my pulse quickened at just seeing his name.
Me
you’re forgiven Sebastian
Creep
did you start classes already?
Me
next week
He didn’t respond right away. The typing bubble appeared, vanished, appeared again. I couldn’t stop myself from egging him on. He’d texted first, so what was the harm, right?
Me
can I ask you a question?
Creep
sure thing
I grinned, tapping my screen lightly.
Me
how do you have me saved on your phone?
A second later, he sent a screenshot. My stomach twisted at the sight of it—Pet.
The same name, just missing one small word. My.
He probably had to be careful now. Careful with him.
Creep
some things never change
I arched a brow and typed before I could second-guess myself.
Me
some really fucking do
have you told your boyfriend about me yet?
Creep
yes I did
That fast? They had to be close. I rubbed the heel of my hand against my chest, trying to ease the pressure.
Me
and how did you phrase it?
my friend moved to Madrid?
or my brother-in-law?
He took forever to reply again. The screen dimmed while I waited, my reflection faint in the glass.
Creep
I told him my ex moved to Madrid who also happens to be my brother-in-law and my friend
Ex.
I never would’ve thought Sebastian Langley would use that word for me.
Me
is he looking forward to meeting me?
I can’t fucking wait to meet him
Creep
that sounded just the right amount of that emotion you used to hate when I pointed it out
I scoffed, biting the inside of my cheek.
Me
I’m not jealous of your boyfriend
Creep
of course not
nobody ever gets competitive around the new guy
I chuckled under my breath, shaking my head at the screen.
Me
I meant I don’t have a reason for it Ash
I seriously doubt you could top me
you couldn’t have possibly found somebody more front-page newsworthy
unless he’s in high school
Creep
he’s not in high school
He didn’t deny anything else, though. I couldn’t tell if he was turned off or turned on by the verbal sparring—and that bugged the hell out of me. I was tempted to call him, just to hear his voice.
I wasn’t sure what to type back, but he beat me to it.
Creep
so
what do you have me saved as in your phone?
I laughed and sent a screenshot. He took his time replying, and I hoped it was because he was laughing too. I hoped his boyfriend was sitting right next to him while he did.
Creep
I really fucking missed you
My smile faltered.
Me
Yeah?
What I really wanted to ask was then why? Why hadn’t he broken up with him? Why had he stopped texting before? Why had he stayed away? But I didn’t. I waited.
Creep
I never stopped it’s just more obvious now
My treacherous heart skipped.
Creep
we should probably figure out how to be friends
you and I
That made me grin as I sank back against the pillows, my chest warm and my thoughts dangerously close to places they shouldn’t go.
Me
sure thing ash
why don’t we practice sometime?
I’ll have my apartment next week
Fine. Maybe the teasing was uncalled for. Childish, even. I knew better than to goad any man in a relationship. But this wasn’t any man. This was Sebastian.
Just a little jest between friends, right?
And where did he get off being in a fucking relationship, anyway?
Creep
I knew you were going to be like this.
Me
like what Ash?
A new notification popped up on my screen—an email from the bank.
I sat up and opened it, my eyes skimming the words, trying to make sense of them. Until they landed on a line that was impossible to misinterpret.
Total balance: $0.00
Empty. It was fucking empty.
For a second, everything went quiet. No sound, no breath—just the rush of blood in my ears. My pulse thudded so hard it hurt.
The phone buzzed again, cutting through the silence.
Creep
like fucking fire
My heart soared and sank all at once.
Because this image I’d been building for years—the version of myself I wanted to show him—was a fucking lie. He wouldn’t think that about me if he knew just how much of a pushover I really was.
After all, who could be stupid enough to let themselves get scammed by their own father?