Roxie
I watched Sebastian’s broad shoulders cut through the crowd as he walked away, and something in me tightened.
Every sensible part of my brain screamed to let him go—that nothing good ever came from following Sebastian Whittaker.
Every part of my past with him was proof of that. Not when I was seventeen. Not now.
And yet, my body had other plans.
The way he carried himself, with that dark intensity simmering just under his skin, was magnetic.
No one else in this bar, maybe in this entire city, pulled me in like that.
My fingers curled around my glass as if I could anchor myself here, but before I realized what I was doing, I was up off my seat and heading after him without a single word to Nate.
Past the laughing clusters of people, past Hallie and James’s little bubble they’d claimed for just the two of them.
Toward the hallway where he’d disappeared.
When I reached the bathroom door, it was locked, and soft light spilled out from underneath.
My pulse was a runaway train, a roaring engine in my ears.
I really should have turned around. I should have given him the chance to leave.
Instead, I reached out and hesitantly knocked on the heavy, wooden door.
“Occupied,” Sebastian’s voice called out, low and rough through the wood.
I felt a lump form in my throat. I almost walked away, but the words escaped before I could prevent them. “It’s me.”
No response.
Then the latch clicked, and the door cracked open.
Framed by the dim bathroom light, Sebastian surveyed me. He stood in the doorway, preventing me from entering, with a blank look on his face.
“Something on your mind, Rox?” he asked, and for once his voice lacked its usual cocky edge.
“This was a bad idea,” I muttered, not really talking to him.
But he heard it. Of course he did. His hand brushed my arm, halting me mid-step. The contact seared, a live wire sparking under my skin. My whole body went rigid, traitorous, caught between the urge to run and the pull to fall back into him.
I cursed him silently—how he could unravel me with the lightest touch.
“Don’t think you can follow me to the bathroom and then bolt,” Sebastian said, his voice a low scrape of heat. “That’s not how this works.”
I barked out a laugh, sharp and bitter. “How what works, exactly? You and me? Sebastian, there is no you and me. There never has been. All we’ve ever done is destroy each other.”
His jaw flexed, green eyes narrowing like I’d struck a nerve. “I know.” The words left him raw, scraped bare. “I’ve done nothing but screw it up with you. From the start.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, a shield against the pounding in my ribs. “Then maybe you should’ve stayed gone.”
But he didn’t back off. His stare dragged me straight into the past, summers by the water, nights when he was the only one who saw me for who I really was. Memories I should have buried years ago.
“I’m through with you, Sebastian.” My voice betrayed me with a crack.
The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “You keep saying that, yet you followed me back here, Rox. Please tell me what you were going to say when you found me.” His tone was a murmur, intimate, like he was whispering a truth I didn’t want to face.
The air thickened, pressing in.
“Why aren’t you drinking?” I blurted, desperate to shift the ground beneath us.
He blinked, startled. “What?”
“You heard me.” I tilted my head toward the bar where he’d left his glass of water. “Everyone in this city knows your reputation, and I know you better than all of them.”
Something unreadable passed over his face, and his hand dropped from my arm. He leaned back against the doorframe, shoving one tattooed hand through his hair. “Maybe I got tired of living up to other people’s expectations.”
I scoffed. “You and I both know that answer is bullshit.”
His mouth curved, but there was no amusement there. “Maybe it is. Or maybe I just don’t need to explain myself to other people anymore.”
The words landed like a punch. God, he was infuriating. Always spinning half-answers like he was still that boy who thought charm could patch over every wound he caused.
“Of course,” I snapped. “That’s classic you. Deflect, smirk, say just enough to keep me wondering, then disappear before the smoke clears.”
His eyes darkened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Roxie, did you ever think I might have changed? That I’m not the boy you used to know anymore?”
“Oh no,” I bit back. “I figured you out a long time ago. You set fire to everything and walk away while the rest of us choke on the ashes.”
He flinched—barely—but I caught it.
“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was gravel, rough and low enough to rattle through me. “You think I don’t wake up every damn day knowing I ruined the only good thing I ever had?”
The confession stunned me into silence. Because Sebastian Whittaker didn’t do confessions. He did bravado. He did games. Not this. Not words that made my chest ache and my knees unsteady.
“You don’t get to say things like that,” I whispered. “Not after everything.”
He stepped in, closing the gap until I could smell the clean bite of mint on his breath, the faint trace of cedar clinging to his shirt. His voice dropped, dangerous and quiet. “And yet here you are, in a bar bathroom with me, telling yourself you’re done but still looking at me like you’re not.”
My stomach flipped violently, traitorous. “You’re delusional.”
“Then prove me wrong,” he said, his lips hovering a breath from mine. “Walk away, Rox. For good this time. Because we both know that I will never be the one to do it.”
I should have. God knows I should have. But my feet wouldn’t move. My pulse roared. And before I could stop myself, my hands were fisting in his shirt, dragging him down to me.
Like a spark to gasoline, the kiss was an instant explosion of heat, a collision of rage and desire.
His lips collided with mine in a rough, desperate kiss, which I returned with the same passion, matching his every move.
His fingers gripped my waist, as if he needed to confirm I was there, unsure whether to pull me near or keep me at a distance.
I leaned into him, the doorframe digging into my back as he pressed me against it, but I hardly noticed.
The only things that mattered were the taste of him, the scratch of his stubble, the way his teeth snagged my lip, and the gasp I let out as he kissed me like no one else could.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t safe. It was a collision, a fight neither of us intended to win.
As his palm moved up my spine, pulling me close, I felt his heart pounding against my chest, mirroring the chaos within me.
My nails dug into the thin fabric of his shirt as I dared him to let go, daring myself not to.
I wanted to hate him with every fiber of my being, to push him away and flee before I was once again lost in him. But reckless and wanting, my lips parted for him, a decision my body made before my mind could comprehend it.
It was at that moment I understood how simple it would be to vanish within him and be consumed by those familiar feelings again. Too easy. My chest heaved as I tore my mouth from his, my hands still tangled in his shirt.
As my breath caught, I whispered, “I can’t,” even though my trembling body screamed a different answer.
Before my words could fully escape, Sebastian’s mouth claimed mine once more, the kiss more urgent this time. My knees gave way, and his arms were around me, lifting me as though I were weightless.
The next thing I knew, I was on the corner of the sink, the cold porcelain biting against the back of my thighs.
He pressed in close, the scent of his cologne filling my nostrils as his mouth devoured mine.
His kiss was demanding, relentless, every brush of his lips staking a claim I had no business letting him have.
I clutched at him helplessly, my fingers tangling in his soft hair as I pulled him closer. His tongue danced with mine, a reckless heat spreading through me as I leaned into him. The door slammed with a muffled clang, sealing us in a suffocating silence, isolated from the world outside.
His hand slid down, gripping my thigh and pulling me against him. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, his cock already hard as he pressed against me.
For a breathless moment, I was right there on the precipice of giving in to what I wanted.
And then it hit me. The danger of it. The impossibility of it. What it would mean if I didn’t stop. If I let him in again, and he hurt me worse than he’d ever done before. I couldn’t let that happen.
With a strangled sound, I shoved at his chest, tearing my mouth from his. My breaths came ragged, my lips bruised, my whole body trembling.
“I—” My voice broke. I couldn’t finish. Couldn’t stay.
I slid off the sink before he could catch me, before my body betrayed me again. The air felt cold without him, my legs unsteady as I forced myself toward the door. My hand fumbled with the handle, and then I was gone, out into the hallway, the heat of him still burning on my skin.
With a glance back, I saw Sebastian, frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He stared after me but didn’t move.
“Fuck,” I heard him mutter under his breath, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t stop and didn’t look back again as I stumbled along the open hallway.
The bar’s chilly air conditioning following the stuffy bathroom stall and the heat of Sebastian’s body shocked me, bringing me back to reality.
I leaned against the wall, shut my eyes, and attempted to regulate my breathing. Even now, my lips were tingling from his kiss, and my body was alive with the memory of his hands, his weight against me, and his scorching closeness.
As I went back to where we’d been sitting, Hallie seemed to notice something in my expression. She started to leave her conversation with James, but I stopped her. My hands shook so badly that I couldn’t look composed, and her gaze only grew more worried.
“Roxie, are you okay?” she asked softly once I was close enough.
I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said, though even I knew it was a lie. Fine was a word that felt impossible to own right now.
Nate DeMarco was still perched on the barstool I’d left him on, nursing a drink he’d ordered in my absence. His eyes caught mine as I approached, and a smile spread across his lips at the sight of me.
“Do you want me to order you another drink?” he asked.
Initially, I was just flirting with him to annoy Sebastian, and sure, Nate might be a nice enough person, but there was no chance I was going to stay here any longer. Not with Sebastian likely to reappear at any second.
“I think I’m going to head out for the evening,” I told him.
“Could I at least have your number?” Nate asked, with sincerity in his warm brown eyes. Such a difference from Sebastian’s green ones. “I would love to take you to dinner.”
I reached for a napkin and rooted for a pen in my purse to scribble down my number. It was quicker for me to simply give in to his request rather than politely decline him, so I could get out of here as soon as possible.
Tonight, I just needed to get home and forget the feeling of Sebastian Whittaker’s hands on my body. The way his lips felt on mine. Because as much as I wanted him, wanted to be consumed by how I felt about him, I didn’t trust him. And without trust, there was no hope for us at all.