15. Chapter 15
Sophia
I once said Sebastian was hotter than the surface of the sun, and that still held true.
But honestly? That comparison didn’t feel accurate anymore. There had to be something better. Something more fitting.
Because clean-cut, goody-two-shoes, blonde-ambition Sebastian was hot.
But messy Seb?
Messy Seb was a certified panty-dropper.
We were in the same gym, but it felt like we were miles apart. While I warmed up on the treadmill, he was over on a pull-cable machine, his back facing me, but his face perfectly visible in the mirror.
His eyes were hidden beneath the brim of his baseball cap, but his jaw was tensed like he was pissed at the world for daring to exist. The back of his compression shirt was already soaked through, sweat clinging to the navy fabric and outlining every muscle like a crime scene photo.
I couldn’t remember the last time he’d cut his hair. A few dark curls pressed stubbornly against the back of his neck. He still dyed it black, but the once-raven color had faded a little, and blonde roots were poking through.
Somehow, it made him look even hotter.
Maybe I just liked men who didn’t care.
He finished his set and stretched, the kind of stretch that made his shirt ride up just enough to show a sliver of skin. Then he grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink, his Adam’s apple shifting as he swallowed.
And while I didn’t usually mess with the weight machines, I wanted an excuse to be closer to him. Plus, I was technically supposed to be investigating him. Which meant I had to stay near him, right?
So I wandered over like it was the most casual thing in the world.
The machine had four stations, and he was at one of the seated ones, so I just kind of stood beside him.
Not in his way, but definitely close enough to be noticed. My gaze slid down the machine. Then back up.
A short cord attached near the floor, zero instructions. No guidance. No clue how this thing was even supposed to work.
But I’d learned a long time ago: if you do something confidently enough, no one questions you.
So I squared my shoulders, turned up my music, and adjusted the weight plates with the pull-pin like I knew exactly what I was doing.
The weights clanked loudly, and I flinched. But I did it confidently.
I grabbed the cord, braced my feet, and pulled like I was starting a lawn mower.
And—absolutely nothing happened.
Well. That wasn’t entirely true. Something happened. And by something, I meant I nearly dislocated my shoulder trying to yank the stupid thing.
Sebastian stared at me skeptically, then—without a word—reached for the bar above his head and got back to work.
And I...
I exhaled sharply, reduced the weight, and cleared my throat like that might somehow fix the laws of physics.
I got back into position, grabbed one of the little rubber balls at the end of the cable and—
THUNK.
The loud, mortifying crash of metal on metal echoed across the gym as the weight stack slammed back down.
Every head within twenty feet turned. Including Sebastian’s.
Embarrassment wasn’t normally my thing. Well—it was my thing. But in a sexual way. For others. I was too pretty and too important to be embarrassed. Actually, I’d engineered my life around never having to feel that way.
And yet—right now—my cheeks burned.
The room eventually went back to its routine, but I stared at my shoes like they held the secrets of the universe. For a second, I seriously considered burning the building down.
If I killed everyone, they wouldn’t remember this. But that felt a little excessive. Even for me.
So I swallowed the feeling and tried to get back to... whatever this was.
When I looked back up, Sebastian was still watching me.
Icy blue eyes, framed by the dark rims of his new glasses. God help me, this man had no right to look that good with glasses.
He reached up and pulled an AirPod from his ear.
“Sophia,” he said calmly. “Do you need help?”
His deep voice bounced around in my chest, turning my insides to mush like I was a strawberry in a blender.
He should seriously consider voice acting. Or ASMR porn. Or real porn. I’d be down for any of it.
“I, uh…” My foot dragged across the mat, sticking awkwardly in a few places. “I wanted to try something new.”
Sebastian didn’t answer right away. He blinked once, slowly—like he was trying to decide how much effort I was worth. Then, after a pause that lasted a beat too long, he stood and set his water bottle down on the seat beside him.
“Do you mind if I show you?”
My heart did a full body slam against my ribs.
“Nope,” I said, trying to sound breezy and not like I’d just been offered a one-on-one lesson from a broody gym god. “Show away.”
He gave me his best attempt at a smile, but it looked more like a half-hearted straight line. Still, the dimple in his left cheek popped, just like Lucian’s.
I tipped my head to the side.
Man, they looked similar. Give Seb a tan and a full sleeve of tattoos, and give Lucian a haircut, and they’d pass for twins. Their dad’s genetics must’ve been strong.
“So,” Sebastian said, turning to face the machine, “stand like this. Feet shoulder-width apart.”
He planted his stance, back to the machine, and looked down at me as he assumed the position.
“Then you wanna squat your legs a little, reach through, and grab the rope.”
He demonstrated the motion with a sexy little grunt.
My lips curled into a slow, hungry smile. In my head, I knocked off his hat, threaded my fingers through that mess of dark curls, and yanked—just enough to make him look up at me.
He should be honored to see something so pretty, really.
Then he looked up at me. Still crouched. And I’d be lying if I said it was easy to fight the urge to slam his face into my pussy, even with all these people around.
“Then,” he continued, voice low and infuriatingly even, “you pull up. Squeezing your glutes the whole time.”
He did the action again and–yeah, no, I could not get my mind out of the gutter.
“Got it?” he asked, slowly returning the rope to the machine.
...Could I ask him to do it again?
Wait.
No.
Focus. I was supposed to be talking to him.
I needed information. Intel. Answers.
I needed to learn about his ex so I could go back to Portland and cut the dude’s willy off.
Huffing out a breath, I shoved the thought down and tried to channel whatever part of me wasn’t completely feral.
“If I try it,” I said, adjusting my stance, “Can you make sure I’m doing it right?”
He froze for a second, seemingly caught off guard by my question before shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“I… I suppose so.” He stepped back and gestured to the machine. “Show me what you’ve got.”
I smiled as I pushed past him, making sure my arm brushed his. It was supposed to be romantic, but Sebastian just blushed and looked away.
Gah—why did someone so hot have to be so awkward?
“You can touch me, you know,” I sang, wiggling my shoulders. “Might help me get into position.”
Seb’s jaw tightened. My eyes dropped to his shorts.
Nothing. Not even a chub.
Tragic.
He reached out and placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me slightly. His touch was clinical, like a doctor grabbing a dude’s dick and telling them to cough. All business, zero fun.
“You smell good,” I tried, reaching for conversation. “Are you wearing cologne?”
“Just sweat,” he murmured. “Bend your knees.”
My disappointment was probably visible from space.
I bent them.
Not enough. Intentionally.
“Lower,” he ordered.
So I went too low.
Like squat challenge from hell low.
Sebastian sighed, a deep, long-suffering, sound, like I was the problem here. Which, to be fair, I absolutely was.
“You can touch my butt if it helps get me into a better position,” I suggested.
“I prefer not touching people without their permission.”
“But I gave you permission,” I whined as I stood.
“Well, yes. But, you are a woman, and I am a man. If I touch you—” he gestured vaguely at my butt, “—my mind is going to go to impure places. And I may want more. Which isn’t fair to you, when you’re only seeking help.”
His voice did that weird, robotic thing Mason’s did when she recited some garbage she’d read on the internet about consent and power dynamics or whatever.
Then a thought dawned.
“Is this about your ex?”
He paled.
Bingo.
“Alex doesn’t bother me anymore,” he said, with all the confidence of a man buying tampons for the first time.
Okay, so I had a first name. Now I just needed a last name, an address, place of employment, and a list of potentially fatal allergies.
Usually, I preferred to poison my victims, but if Alex was a handsy little bugger, it was only fitting that I cut his off.
Ooh! Maybe I could sever Alex’s hands, put them in a jar, and give them to Sebastian as a token of:
Hey, I know you’re a little crazy, but me too! Let’s be crazy together.
That way, he’d see.
He’d finally get it, that I understood him better than anyone else in our house ever could, and I could be his girlfriend just like Mason was. Not that I didn’t love being friends with benefits, but not having that title when I was practically saving his life felt a little rude.
So, I stepped a little closer and placed a hand on his chest. My mind ran in circles, trying to find something empathetic that could also get me more of the information I craved, but Sebby and I were very rudely interrupted.
A short girl with sharp features and arms full of patchwork tattoos came up behind Seb. Her dark eyes narrowed as she puffed her chest. Was she trying to be intimidating? Because, if so, this attempt was laughable at best.
“Where’s Pipsqueak?” Her voice was low and husky, and admittedly very nice to listen to.
Sebastian rolled his eyes and rubbed his temple, then held up a finger as he glanced over his shoulder.
“Can you leave us alone?” he asked, matter-of-fact.
The woman didn’t take kindly to that.
“Not until you tell me where Mason is! She’s blown off two separate sessions, which isn’t like her.”
I pressed a finger to my lips, watching her. I knew Mason had been seeing a personal trainer, but I really didn’t like that level of possessiveness toward my girl. I mean, yeah, sure, seeing her beautiful face was enough to brighten anyone’s day, but that didn’t mean her trainer was entitled to it.
“I don’t know,” Sebastian said, his tone clipped. “As a professional, do you think she should come to the gym after passing out?”
“Well, no,” the woman replied, folding her arms. “But I don’t appreciate my girlfriend ghosting me.”
Ah. There it was.
This woman was the fabled girlfriend Mason had mentioned having but had conveniently never introduced any of us to.
For weeks, I thought she’d made her up for extra attention. And while it worked, I couldn’t figure out why Masie would lie about something so specific.
Turns out, I should just trust her next time.
The vein in Sebastain’s neck pulsed as he fully turned around, devoting his attention to Mason’s partner.
“She isn’t feeling well, we are all very stressed, so if you could please–”
“Why don’t you come over sometime?” I offered.
Sebastian’s head snapped toward me.
The look he shot me made me want to lock him in a cage and forget about it. But it was my house, so it wasn’t up to him.
The girl’s eyes widened.
“I—sorry, what?”
“Come visit Mason. She’s a little under the weather. I’m sure she’d love to see you.” I folded my hands behind my back.
The brash woman suddenly seemed a little uncomfortable at my offer.
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm! We’re kind of into free love and being one big happy family, so if you’re her partner, you might as well get to know the rest of us.” I beamed before extending a hand. “By the way, what’s your name?”
She looked up at Sebastian before swallowing hard. Slowly, she took my hand, allowing me to feel just how shaky the poor thing was.
Why was she so nervous?
Her tongue swiped over her lips as she stood as tall as she could.
“Mattie.”