Chapter Twelve #2
Her accusing tone instantly pissed me off.
‘What do you want me to say, Kate?’
‘Abbey …’
‘What?’ I walked into the kitchen and started to unpack the dishwasher. I was tired, emotionally raw, and if there was an edge to my voice and an immediate defensiveness, then it was warranted.
‘Sebastian is the perfect guy,’ Kate pushed.
I handed her the cutlery rack. ‘Maybe you should date him then, Kate, since you seem to think so.’
‘I see what you’re doing. You won’t give Sebastian a chance because you think you’re in love with Nick fucking Northby. He who refuses to commit, and leads you on, all while telling you he cannot love anyone. Doesn’t stop him from having sex with you, though, does it?’
Kate softened her voice, putting down the cutlery rack on the bench so I could see she was genuinely worried.
‘He’s a commitment-phobe, Abbey. He’s never going to say he loves you.
Also, he’s being a massive prick, because you can’t hide the fact that you are in love with him, so he knows, and he still keeps leading you on. ’
I felt heat climb up my face and my heart start to race. I hated that other people could see that, but I was also furious that she was just cruising on into my feelings and my relationship with Nick, as if I needed her opinion.
‘Kate, enough.’ My tone was warning her to back off, while I concentrated on putting the plates in the cupboard.
‘No, Abbey. You need to hear this. Sebastian is a good guy and Nick is a fucking arse.’
‘Nick is not a bad guy, Kate.’ My voice was still calm, but I could feel the adrenaline kicking in.
‘Abbey, you are being pathetic. He’s leading you on.’
He’s leading me on? Hang on, where’s the Kate that had G black walls, black leather furniture, black bar.
Warm white LED lights ran around the edge of the ceiling.
The only relief from the black was the brushed, light-grey limestone floor tiles, which had been custom cut into enormous squares for the space.
A huge black-and-white image of Jack hung above the bar, his arms crossed in front of him, a larger-than-necessary knife in one hand, which I’d heard him say was a not-so-subtle symbol of the size of his cock.
His rugged, handsome face was unshaven and lined.
The restaurant was imposing as fuck, completely outrageous and the hottest seat in town.
There was a three-month waitlist for a table.
‘Abbey Parker.’ His voice was deep and coarse like a carpenter’s hands and his eyes wandered over me as if I was a piece of meat. I had actually been to the market with him once and seen him pick meat, and it was exactly the same.
‘Jack.’ I kissed him on each cheek.
His hand claimed my wrist. ‘You look like a cool glass of water on a searingly hot day, Abbey.’
‘Hmm, you have such a way with words. I’ll take that as a compliment, Jack. This’ – I pointed to Nick – ‘is Nick Northby.’