Chapter Four
Jesse
We were tumbling over a huge bed, wrapped in each other and in the steam of the hot kisses we shared. Sebastian’s eyes drilled into mine, as his hips moved, drilling into—
My eyes popped open, then I winced at the pain in my head. The drilling was real, but I was alone in my bed. Judging by my sweaty T-shirt and panties, either I had malaria or the AC had died during the night.
“Shit. Not today.”
The drilling started again, the sound coming from upstairs. Mr. Gore must be installing a new lock on Sebastian’s door.
I checked the clock—nine a.m. Not bad for a Sunday morning.
I sat up slowly, holding my head. My temples throbbed.
I hadn’t had a hangover in a long time. I reached for the glass of water on my nightstand, then opened the drawer and found some ibuprofen.
I swallowed it and finished the water, then rubbed my hands over my face.
As much as I wanted to go back to sleep, the noise wasn’t going to let me.
Besides, it was safer to stay awake and not remember the dream I was having.
What the hell was that? Had I just dreamed of having sex with Sebastian?
No way. Not happening. Not in a million years!
I was just having a dry spell that had lasted much too long.
I knew the signs. My hormones were raging, and my body needed healthy sexual release from something other than my vibrator.
I hadn’t had a boyfriend—a loose term for a few dates and a couple of sleepovers—in six months. I didn’t do commitment.
This dream was just a result of abstinence, alcohol, and the memories Sebastian had stirred up last night. Why did he feel the need to bring up the night we’d met?
As though I’d summoned it, the image flashed in my head again—a naked Sebastian lying in his bed, his crotch covered in whipped cream, topped off with a single red cherry.
His body was all lean curves, taut muscles, and ink. An intricate tattoo of a clock and its mechanisms adorned his left pec. Others, mostly space-themed, circled his right arm and up his shoulder. A couple of lines that looked like binary code started on his right hip and snaked down.
The moment I’d seen him that night, my first instinct had been to lap up all that whipped cream like a dairy farm cat.
Then I’d quickly realized what a shallow jerk he was, dating a new woman every month, sometimes every week.
That was a solid reason to kill any budding attraction I might feel for the man.
I wouldn’t be a notch on this asshole’s bedpost if he were the last man on earth.
I’d heard that if you looked out the window as soon as you woke up, you would forget whatever you dreamed about. I had to ask Lily if that was true. Her insight into the human mind was scary good.
Just in case that theory was true, I walked over to the window, pulled aside the drapes, and opened it wide.
The heat and sunshine assaulted me. I needed coffee.
I padded into the kitchen, filled the coffee maker and switched it on.
The wooden floor was still cool under my feet, but I knew it was going to get a lot hotter.
I had to take a look at the AC unit. I prayed it just needed a good cleaning.
If it was something serious, I was screwed.
Mr. Gore was pretty handy, but I doubted he could handle a complicated repair job.
I poured coffee into a big mug with Coffee, because killing people is illegal printed on it. I added two fingers of milk, sugar, and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I inhaled deeply and walked to the couch in the living room. Perfect. The scent of caffeine tickled the refresh button in my brain.
I sat cross-legged on the couch and turned on the TV, changing channels on auto-pilot.
I settled for an episode of See Dad Run, a cute comedy centered around a funny family.
I loved these types of shows. I’d always wanted a big family.
As an only child, I yearned to see the faces of loved ones around the kitchen table.
I longed for the chaos and fun a big family could offer.
At least, that’s how they made it seem in those shows.
Right now, my girlfriends were my family. I couldn’t complain; they were a hell of a bunch, and were always there for me.
What was Sue doing now? She and Cam were on their honeymoon. I hoped she didn’t have a hangover. Unlike me, she didn’t have to dream of sex with a man. She had the real deal, and Cam was movie-star gorgeous. Although Sebastian had way more charm.
Last night when I’d returned with my tools, his face had lit up when he saw me.
I’d had to resist the temptation to pinch his cheeks.
Damn it, he could be cute when he wanted to be.
It was stupidly endearing to see a six-foot man looking at me with hopeful, chocolate-colored eyes.
I had the biggest weakness for chocolate.
And dimples. I didn’t care that, according to Nikki, they were just a malformation of the cheeks. It didn’t make them less adorable.
After draining the last of my coffee, I grabbed my toolbox and the vacuum from the pantry, praying it still had enough juice to battle the dust colony inside my AC.
Living in a pre-war building came with quirks—charming architecture, but no central air.
My dad had installed a ductless mini-split unit in the living room, which cooled most of the apartment, and a noisy little window box kept my studio from turning into a kiln.
I set up the ladder, dismantled the unit, and when I reached the filters I recoiled with a sneeze.
The dust buildup looked prehistoric. I vacuumed like a woman possessed, sweat pouring down my face and between my boobs, as I Ghostbustered the gunk into oblivion.
One deep clean turned into an all-out war—I vacuumed the entire apartment, reassembled the AC, and finally, with trembling fingers, pressed the On button.
Eyes squeezed shut, I waited to see if it would actually work. .. or explode.
I heard a gentle purring sound, and a cool breeze lifted my sweaty hair off my forehead. I allowed myself a huge gulp of air. My AC was alive!
I plopped down on the couch and sat there for a few minutes, letting my heart rate lower along with the temperature.
After a while, I went to the fridge, chugged down half a bottle of water, then dragged myself into the shower. I scrubbed, shampooed, brushed my teeth, and ended the ritual by rubbing cream onto my face. I felt human again.
I was trying to decide whether to blow dry my hair when I heard a knock at the door.
Who could it be? One of the girls? No, they would have used the intercom. Besides, they rarely came to visit without calling first.
I secured my towel between my breasts and looked through the peephole. I gaped at the sight of Sebastian holding a plate piled high with Belgian waffles covered in berries, vanilla cream, and chocolate sauce.
Intrigued, I opened the door. Sebastian wore a white tank top, blue shorts, and a million dollar smile.
“Morning, Princess. Fancy some brunch?”
I eyed the waffles. They looked Pinterest-perfect. The aroma of ripe berries and chocolate syrup made my mouth water.
“Where did you get them?” Suspicion crept into my voice.
His smile widened. “I made them.”
I cocked my head. “Really? You can cook?”
My skepticism amused him. “It’s not rocket science—which I can also do, by the way. Yeah, I made them to thank you for last night. Do you want them or not?”
I reached for the plate, but snatched my hand back as my towel began to unwrap. I grabbed it tightly with both hands.
Sebastian’s eyes lowered to my chest, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.
“I’ll put them on the table for you, if that’s okay?”
“Err, sure.” I opened the door wider and gestured for him to come inside.
He walked over to the kitchen table and laid the plate down gently.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling absurdly flustered.
That stupid trick of looking out the window hadn’t worked.
As I faced Sebastian, I remembered last night’s dream all too vividly, including some things I hadn’t recalled before.
Why did he have to wear that skimpy tank top that showed off his rounded biceps, pecs, and those sexy tattoos?
NASA engineers weren’t supposed to look like him.
As I stood there clutching my towel, it occurred to me that I should display some basic hospitality.
“Do you want some coffee?”
His dimples flashed. “That would be great, thanks.”
“Have a seat.” I indicated the chair.
I tried not to feel self-conscious as I poured some lukewarm coffee into a cup.
“Do you want sugar?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Only a little milk.” Sebastian shoved back the chair and got to his feet. “Let me do it. You go change... If you want to.”
What was that pause between the two sentences? What did he mean, if I wanted to? Of course I wanted to. I had no intention of walking around in nothing but a towel, especially with him here.
I gave him a gracious smile, to show I could be a nice hostess even if I didn’t feel like it.
“Thank you. There’s milk in the fridge. I’ll only be a minute.”
I walked into my bedroom and shut the door a bit too firmly. If it had a lock, I would have locked it. It was stupid because Sebastian wasn’t the type to enter my bedroom uninvited and ravish me. The problem was whether or not I wanted to invite him in—which I definitely did not.
I yanked out a pair of cutoffs, a black tee, and, after a moment’s hesitation, a bra. I dressed quickly, ran a hand through damp hair, and firmly resisted the urge to check the mirror. I wasn’t trying to impress Sebastian.
I found him sitting at the kitchen table and sipping his coffee.
He looked up and smiled.
“I Drink Coffee for Your Protection.” He cocked his head as he read the inscription from my T-shirt. “Ouch. I hope the noise didn’t wake you. Mr. Gore installed a new lock on my door.”
I took the other chair and sat across from him. “It did, but it wasn’t your fault.”
“Then I’m really sorry. Please accept my peace offering.” He pushed the plate of waffles toward me.
I couldn’t stifle a smile. I went to get a plate, a fork, and a knife.
“Do you want some?”
He shook his head. “I’ve had mine. These are all yours.”
I transferred one onto another plate and spooned some of the toppings over it. I cut into the golden perfection and tried a bite. I stifled a moan. The exquisite texture, the magnificent flavor... It was divine.
I closed my eyes to savor the moment. “Mmm.”
“I gather you like them?” Sebastian’s voice dripped satisfaction.
I nodded, slowly opening my eyes. He was sitting with his forearms propped on the table, waiting for a verdict.
I swallowed reverently. “You have a hidden talent, neighbor. These are pretty good.”
He grinned, showing off his perfect teeth. A brush of stubble covered his jaw. His eyes were as soft as velvet. He looked pleased with himself.
“Glad you like them,” he said. “I’ll have to make you dinner, so I can properly show off my cooking skills.”
I forked another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the sweetness. As the crispy waffle danced across my tastebuds, it hit me.
My eyes widened. “Oh, my God. These taste just like my dad’s waffles.”
Sebastian gave me a soft smile. “He gave me the recipe. He even told me his secret ingredient: a spoonful of ricotta cheese, to make them creamier.”
My throat tightened. My father had shared his prized recipe with Sebastian.
I knew my dad had liked Sebastian, but sharing his waffle recipe was a vote of trust and respect.
For a moment, the sweet, special taste teleported me back in time to happier days, when my dad and I were a team, and I’d had no idea I was going to lose him so soon.
“Are you okay?” Sebastian’s gentle voice jarred me back to the present.
Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. I nodded, hoping to hide my face.
“Sure. I was just … It took me by surprise. Since I’m a crappy cook, I never cared enough to ask Dad for the recipe. I thought he’d always be here to make me waffles.”
I tapped out a random tune on the table, my fingers restless. Sebastian reached out and touched them. I stilled, my eyes moving to his hand covering mine.
“I’m happy to make you waffles whenever you want.” He squeezed my hand slightly. “I think your dad would approve. I miss him. He was almost like the father I no longer have.”
I lifted my head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that you lost your dad too.”
He looked stuck for a moment, as though he hadn’t realized he’d been speaking aloud. His lips were parted in silent debate.
After a moment, he nodded. “My parents died in a car crash when I was fifteen. My sister, Janine, was twenty-one. She raised me, and God knows it wasn’t easy. But she never abandoned me.”
There was something overwhelming in his tone, as though he was trying to hide a wound, to keep it buried deep inside.
I struggled for words. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian. Losing your parents at such a young age must’ve been awful. I’m glad you had your sister. She must be one hell of a woman.”
His expression softened as though he were looking back in time at private and cherished memories.
“Oh, yeah. She’s a criminal defense attorney at one of the top firms in the city.
I’m really proud of her. If she hadn’t taken custody of me, I would have ended up in foster care.
She’s my only family.” He grinned. “She taught me how to cook. She still lectures me on how to make a woman happy.”
“And did you learn?” I teased.
His gaze met mine, turning serious. He reached across the table and covered my hand with his again. “Maybe you’ll give me the chance to show you one day.”