29. Sebastian
Chapter 29
Sebastian
C lark's mouth was open like she was about to respond as Sarah all but barreled into her, arms wrapping around her waist. "Fletcher got us a ride to the hotel! Go grab your coat!" Sarah smashed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing Fletcher's hand to run to the coat room. To Fletcher's credit, he had the decency to look sorry as she led him to the coat room, and his eyes pointedly looked at Georgia while he mouthed, "I didn't know!"
Ass.
I turned my attention to Georgia, who was pulling on her coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck, standing by the door as she waited for the rest of us.
“Isn’t he great?” I heard Sarah say to Georgia, whose face was still apprehensive as she turned to look at me.
Georgia turned her attention back to her friend and smiled, taking her hand. "He's great, Sarah; I'm so glad you're having a good birthday."
Sarah squealed and wrapped her arms around Georgia, whispering something in the other's ear that caused that tell-all blush to creep up Georgia's neck.
"Car’s here!" I heard Fletcher call, and I motioned for the rest of the group to go ahead of me while I stood behind to grab Fletcher's shoulder.
"What is going on?" I hissed, trying not to look as nervous as I was. Fletcher dropped the smile he had plastered on around Sarah and turned on me.
"First off, calm down. I had no idea Georgia and Sarah were friends. All I knew was that they worked together, I swear," Fletcher explained, his face serious. "I'm not trying to catch you off guard, Quinn, so chill out and stop looking like you've got a gun to your head."
He didn't allow me to rebuff his remark as he went to open the car door for Sarah and her birthday party group. Maybe he was right, and I was just overreacting. No one knew anything. Fletcher was just a giant ass because he really hadn't done this before. I had no reason not to trust him and that this was all just a giant coincidence.
Sliding into the blacked-out SUV, I found myself sitting next to Clark, whose bare legs were crossed as she shivered slightly.
Doing everything I could do not to touch her unnecessarily just to make her uncomfortable, I put my seatbelt on as quickly as possible, scooting near the window even as our legs brushed in the confined space.
Sarah was practically draped over Fletcher while my friend ran a hand through her blond tresses, eyes enraptured as she spoke clearly despite the obvious alcohol intake of the night.
Another shiver ran through Clark, the leather seats still cold, and I could only imagine it against her bare skin. As quickly and silently as I could, I slipped my leather jacket off to cover her bare legs. In my periphery, I saw her shocked expression as my body-warmed jacket settled over her. Still, she didn't rebuff my action but instead smiled softly before turning her attention to the conversation happening next to her as Chloe regaled everyone in the car about how she had slashed two of her ex's tires without getting caught.
Honestly, it was impressive.
"We're here! Everyone should have a room, and there’s a bar with food downstairs that’s twenty-four hours!" Sarah explained, her eyes dancing as she looked at no one except Fletcher. Damn, she had it bad. And from the way his eyes hadn't left hers for the entire car ride, the feeling was mutual.
The hotel was dramatic to say the least; it settled in high rise with a curved staircase that was reminiscent of old Hollywood, all marble and crown molding.
"I'm just staying for a bit; my apartment is just around the corner, and my cat hates it when I'm not home at a certain time," Chloe explained while Sarah checked in at the concierge desk.
"Tyler and I are staying for appetizers, then we have an early flight," Andrew agreed, holding the hand of the man who was definitely taller than me and could bench-press me without breaking a sweat. "We're celebrating our one year and going to New York for the week!"
The conversation was fine; I talked to Sarah's friends, who were by all accounts good people and just happy to celebrate their mutual friend's birthday. Fletcher's face was what signaled something was wrong as they walked over to us, Fletcher holding Sarah's overnight bag over his shoulder and refusing to look me in the eye.
Fuck. What now?
"Okay!" exclaimed Sarah with forced joviality, clapping her hands together. "Our table is ready downstairs, but there was a little mix-up with the rooms."
Georgia looked confused. "What kind of mix-up?"
Sarah looked at Fletcher for a moment before explaining. "So, my uncle did block rooms for us. However, there was a miscommunication on how many rooms were actually available. There’s a convention in town, and so many were already snatched up."
Clark raised her eyebrow at her friend as she urged her to continue. "Do I need to find a ride home? It's completely fine. I can grab a rideshare?—"
Grabbing Georgia’s hands in hers, Sarah shook her head. "Oh my god, of course not! I'm not letting you take a nearly one-hour ride home at 1:00 a.m. I have a room for you—" She shot a look at me, and it immediately seemed to lock into place. "—you just have to be cool with rooming with Sebastian. If that's okay, of course. I wouldn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable!"
Fletcher lowered his eyes at me, practically begging me to take the room so he could have some alone time with Sarah.
Jesus Christ.
Clark opened her mouth and then closed it, looking at me to gauge my reaction. Fletcher and I were locked in a battle of wills as he simultaneously threatened and begged me with his facial expression. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, hopefully nonchalantly, as I shrugged my shoulders.
"No big deal, Sarah, I can take the couch or something." I looked to Georgia for confirmation that it was okay with her and watched her eyes widen minutely as she just nodded before forcing a smile at Sarah.
Clark and I walked the three flights of stairs down to the intimately lit bar while the others chatted and laughed with each other. With each step I took I swore my blood pressure rose, with Clark so close to me doing something so…casual. It made my skin itch like it was too small for my body.
"You sure you're okay with the hotel arrangement?" I asked, ducking my head so I could whisper softly without the others picking it up. "I can sleep on the couch, obviously. If not, I can drive us both home after we eat."
Georgia shook her head, whispering back, "No, I can't leave; she's having a boozy brunch in the morning. Sarah has never had a birthday party, and it was hard enough getting her to agree to celebrate herself. I can't ditch her now." She finally looked at me as we made it to the speakeasy-inspired bar. "I'm fine with it; don't think too much about it."
Yeah, well, too late, Clark.
The food was good, and it helped clear the meager amount of alcohol from my system.
"So what do you do, Sebastian?" Chloe politely asked while grabbing another chip from the communal bowl. I felt more than saw Clark's eyes on me as I responded, "I'm an account manager for my grandfather’s business.”
The woman nodded. "Do you like it?"
I paused slightly, chip midair while I considered her question. I just shrugged, "It's a job."
Fletcher decided to step in, arm still wrapped around Sarah's shoulders. "Don't let him fool you; if his grandfather ever actually let him out of the office, he would be toe to toe with the old man. He could sell water to the ocean."
I immediately turned the conversation to Sarah, "So, how did you and Fletcher meet?" I asked, all but gulping my water because my mouth was inexplicably dry.
Sarah's face broke out in a smile as she looked at the taller man who sat with his arm around her shoulders. "At the coffee shop I work at. He was there for a business meeting and ordered an Americano with six shots."
In response to my raised eyebrows, Fletcher threw his head back in a groan. "I swear I'm not trying to kill myself. I just hadn't slept the night before."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "I, of course, being a responsible barista, asked if he needed to talk to someone. Just joking, of course, but then he said he would do a quad shot if it meant he could take me out to dinner." Hearts in her eyes, she nudged his ribs. "Of course, I couldn't be responsible for a heart attack on my watch, so, you know. We went to dinner—no quad shot needed."
I shook my head at Fletcher's quick thinking, trying to think of a good follow-up question when he interjected, "And it just so happens that we both know Georgia, both went to high school with her." Sarah's eyes lit up when she looked between the three of us.
"Oh my god, you didn't tell me that, Georgia!"
Clark swallowed hard as she shook her head, clearing her throat. "You knew Quinn was my neighbor. It took me a bit to remember everyone; high school was a long time ago."
Fletcher grinned conspiratorially as he lowered his lips to Sarah's ear, yet speaking loud enough for the whole table to hear, "Sebastian and Georgia were neck and neck for valedictorian during senior year." He glanced at me, a glint in his eye. "Never had I seen that man in the library as many times as I did during that year."
Andrew raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Can't there be two valedictorians?" Fletcher shook his head, explaining, "Not at Perrington. We were a notoriously competitive prep school. Their thought was competition and rigorous study made students excel."
I stayed quiet, my jaw moving in anger as Fletcher grinned over his drink. That jackass knew exactly what he was doing, but I had no idea what his end goal was except pissing me off.
"And gave them anxiety attacks and crippling self-doubt," Clark piqued up to a chorus of laughs around the table before turning toward me with a questioning look in her eyes. Sure we had spoken about this, but with Fletcher breathing new life into the whole situation, it seemed to spurn something in Clark.
“All in good academic rivalry,” I said.
Fletcher blew a breath through his lips in a laugh, "Yeah, and he re-read Wuthering Heights until the paperback was falling apart because he was so passionate about 18th-century literature."
That had Clark lowering her chip to stare at me before she realized what she was doing and just placed a smile on her face and shook her head. "It’s a great book."
The conversation was finally steered away from us when Sarah asked Andrew and Tyler about their upcoming trip, giving them places to try for the best pizza experience. The tension between Clark and me was palpable; the appetizers were expensive, but they turned to ash in my mouth as I went through the motions of the conversations.
"I'm going to run to the bathroom, babe, be right back," Fletcher whispered to Sarah, but I caught it and tossed my napkin onto the table and stood with him. "Yeah, me too. Be right back, guys."
Fletcher had a knowing look in his eyes as we made our way to the bathroom, a grin never leaving his stupid face. The door had barely closed behind him when I turned on him. "What the fuck are you playing at, Fletcher?" I exclaimed, my hands closing in fists even while knowing I would never swing at this guy, no matter how much he pissed me off.
Fletcher raised his hands. "I'm not playing at anything, man, just making conversation." Slapping the counter I stepped closer, finger in his face.
"I know damn well what you're doing!" I countered, feeling my heart thudding in my chest with anger and something else. Embarrassment? Hope?
"Oh, really, what am I doing, Seb? C'mon, spell it out, buddy," he urged, trying his hardest to look innocent and failing miserably.
Throwing my hands up, I spun, my hand threading through my hair. "You're trying to make it look like I have a thing for her! Even in high school! That was almost ten years ago!"
Fletcher threw up his hands in response. "Exactly, Seb! You had the hots for her then, and you definitely have ‘em for her now!"
"You don't know that!"
The man ran his hands down the side of his face in frustration as he groaned, "I do, because I have fucking eyes! You think you're so slick and mysterious, but you have always worn your heart on your sleeve, even if you never fucking act on it because deep down, you feel like you don't deserve it." I swore I stopped breathing as he continued. "You haven't been in a relationship, a real relationship, in years because you're so wrapped up in the weight of the world that you demand to carry on your shoulders."
I shook my head, steeling my jaw, and opened my mouth to argue, but he just raised his hand. "No, listen to me for once in your fucking life. You're a good person, Seb. You're doing everything right, but you are so used to being beaten down by life that you can't see the good things you have around you because you have been convinced that all you have put yourself through is somehow some kind of fucked up penance for the sins of your father."
The silence was deafening as my arms dropped to my side. Fletcher shook his head before looking at me with the most serious expression that I had no idea he was capable of making.
"You do what you do for your own reasons and it's admirable. But you were replicating intimacy with someone you knew would never go further for obvious reasons, and that felt safe to you. Because you would never have to put yourself out there. But here you are, with the real thing right in fucking front of you, and you are going to let it slip through your fingers because you can't admit that you are vulnerable. That you want someone to give as many shits about you as you do for everyone else around you. And that terrifies you."
I couldn’t reply; his words washed over me like a cold burst of air, cooling the anger that he had ignited within me. As I opened my mouth, the door to the bathroom opened to allow a couple of men in business suits to stumble through to the urinals.
Fletcher rolled his shoulders. "So unless you're going to hold my dick while I piss, I'll see you back at the table."
And fuck if I didn't turn around and leave the bathroom, my stomach lurching with the expensive food and sugary cocktail.
Part of me wanted to slide out of the hotel, run up the stairs, and drive home before I could ruin anything. But a bigger, more irrational part of me urged me to go back to that table, to sit down next to Clark and not do anything stupid.
I sat down, sliding back into the leather chair next to my next-door neighbor and current partner I was fucking for money. Fletcher's words repeated in my head as I kept up with the conversation and dodged Clark's curious glances in my direction.
I was okay. I was fine. Everything was fine.