Текст книги "Strings Attached"

Автор книги: Stephanie Julian

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Five

Sebastian barely slept, and when he finally dragged his ass out of bed in the morning, he felt like he had a hangover.

But you didn’t get a hangover from a couple of beers.

No, his head hurt because he couldn’t get his fucking brain to shut down. But all that thinking had been good for something. He’d come to two conclusions.

He needed to call Nik. And he needed to talk to Tru about the previous night.

He’d avoided Nik for way too long and might’ve seriously fucked up their relationship. A relationship they both needed personally and professionally.

He didn’t want to make the same mistake with Tru.

Which was ridiculous because there was no “with Tru.” Because she was probably gonna take his head off when she saw him this morning.

“Shit.”

Maybe he’d work here at the hotel today.

Coward.

“Shit.”

An hour later, showered and shaved and dressed like he had a purpose besides fucking up his life, he took the elevator to the lobby and prepared for the first interrogation of the day.

“Hey, Bree. How’s it going?”

Sabrina’s smile could light up a room, but for the first time since he’d known her, it didn’t make him want things from her he could never have. For the first time, it made him think he’d rather see a smile on another woman’s face instead.

Jesus, he was fucking crazy.

“Hey, Baz. How– Hold on. Suzette, do you mind if I take my break a little early?”

“No, sweetie, go ahead.” The older woman working the reception desk with Bree this morning waved her off with a smile. “Slow morning.”

When she gave Baz a look over the top of her librarian glasses, he automatically straightened. With her blond hair always in a twist and her cool blue eyes, she reminded him of a teacher he’d had a crush on in high school. Suzette had to be in her fifties and he’d totally do her if she wasn’t happily married. And if he had any desire to do anybody.

“Good morning, Mr. Valenti.”

“Good morning, Ms. Charles.”

They played this game every time he saw her. He had the feeling she enjoyed it as much as he did.

“Have a good day, Mr. Valenti.”

“Thank you, Ms. Charles.”

Her lips curved in a barely there smile and Sabrina shook her head as she pulled Baz toward the employee’s break room.

Guests typically weren’t allowed back here but he had friends in all the right places. Friends who put up with a lot of shit from him.

Once he and Sabrina were alone in the break room, she turned to him with a look he knew pretty well by now. Concern.

Shit, when the hell would everyone stop worrying about him and just treat him like a normal un-fucked-up person?

Maybe when you start acting like one.

“Are you okay? What happened last night? You disappeared. I was going to call but I didn’t want to bother you. If you hadn’t come down in a few more minutes, I was going to go up and pound on your door.”

“I’m fine.” He sighed. “Sorry, I just . . . I had to get out of there last night. Everything closed in on me and I had to get out. Sorry. I should’ve called.”

Sabrina frowned. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Not lately, no.” Not in months, actually.

“So what triggered it?”

He thought about his answer for a few seconds, because he hadn’t really thought about it last night. He’d had too much other shit going on in his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

Her expression held a shitload of concern. “Do you want to talk about it? Come back for lunch and we can—”

“I can’t today.” He shook his head. “Too much to do.” And frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill his guts to Sabrina about this. Not now. “But maybe we can get together later this week, okay?”

Sabrina chewed her bottom lip for a second before forcing a smile. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“Okay, it’s a da . . . plan. We’ll catch up then. Gotta run, babe. Already running behind.”

He leaned in to brush a kiss along her cheek. Something he always did. But today it felt awkward and he hated that.

As her arms went around his shoulders, she gave him a hug. He let her, but he pulled away faster than he normally would have.

“Listen,” she said before he turned away. “Greg’s worried he pushed you into a situation you weren’t ready for. Let him apologize when you see him this morning, okay?”

His smile was genuine now. “No problem. See you later.”

He escaped Haven without seeing anyone else he knew and decided to walk to the office.

Huh. He had an office. He’d never really thought of the studio as an office. And now that he had, well, shit. He’d never thought of himself as ever having an office. Did that mean he’d grown up?

Can’t be Peter Pan forever, can you?

Which made him start humming “When You Wish Upon a Star.” Which led him into a whole other melody.

By the time, he arrived at the ManDown offices, he was practically running. He’d found that last elusive piece of music he needed to complete the film. And he had another piece . . . one that needed words.

He had his hand on the door just as he realized he was probably going to run into Tru before he could get to the relative safety of the studio.

Shame hit when he hesitated to open it.

Jesus, how much more of a coward could he be? Seriously, he was a total dick for even thinking about heading for the door at the back of the building, where he had much less of a chance of running into her.

Be a man. Open the fucking door, apologize for last night, tell her you’ve got this music in your head you need to get out before you can chat, and promise you’ll talk later.

Would she buy it?

Fuck it.

He opened the door.

No one in sight.

The relief practically took his breath away but he saw it as a gift and made for the studio. Head down, barely watching where he was going, he stayed in his head, chasing the notes, stringing them together until he had the basic melody set in his head.

Entering the room, he picked up his guitar, opened the recording software on the laptop, and started to play.

*   *   *

Tru caught a quick glance of Sebastian out of the corner of her eye as he strode through the hall on his way to the studio.

Luckily, she hadn’t been in her office or there might’ve been an awkward couple of minutes when they both would’ve tried to talk around what had happened last night.

At least, that’s what she’d imagined would’ve happened.

Because she’d woken up this morning thinking it’d be best for everyone if they acknowledged the fact that last night had been a mistake and they never spoke of it again.

She’d decided her sister was out of her mind last night when she’d told Tru to sleep with him. Vi didn’t have a clue what was really going on here, so of course she wouldn’t know what to tell Tru. Therefore, Tru was going to stick her head in the sand.

And for her next trick, she was going to make the previous night disappear into the sands of time.

Trouble was, Greg was the magician. She was merely the pencil pusher.

One who wasn’t going to be able to avoid Sebastian forever.

With a sigh, she heard the studio door snap shut.

She should stop him now, get this painful discussion out of the way so they could return to their respective corners and go back to ignoring or fighting with each other.

Which worked so well before.

She couldn’t even avoid being snarky to herself.

Shit.

She reached the studio in seconds and had her hand on the door ready to open it when she realized that the red light above it was lit.

Which meant he was recording.

Curiosity bit her hard. She knew he’d been struggling to finish the last of the music for the film. But now he was recording.

She couldn’t help but wonder if that had something to do with what’d happened between them last night.

Think a little too much of yourself, don’t you?

Since when did her conscience sound like her sister?

She should’ve turned around and walked away, let him finish whatever he was doing in peace.

She turned the knob. If he was at the piano, he wouldn’t even know she was there. He’d be facing away from the window that separated the mixing booth from the actual studio space where he played his instruments.

If he was playing his guitar . . . Well, she’d take that chance because curiosity had grabbed her by the throat and was practically choking her.

Opening the door wide enough only for her to slip through, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the booth was empty and mostly dark. The only light came through the window from the studio. And it was so dim it took a second for her eyes to adjust.

Then she saw him at the piano. His fingers flew over the keys and the music he created drew her closer before she realized she’d stepped forward.

And damn, but the man could play.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, completely enraptured. She could listen to this all day. So melodic. So stunningly beautiful. So filled with emotion.

While her ears took in every note, her eyes ate him up.

Everything had changed last night, a seismic shift she still wasn’t sure how she was going to handle.

She thought she’d had a solution when she’d arrived this morning. That they’d talk it out and retreat to their comfortable corners, where they’d come out sniping at each other at every opportunity.

She understood that. She didn’t understand this attraction. It made absolutely no sense in her previously well-ordered life. He didn’t fit the vision of the man she wanted in her life.

Someone stable, someone who treated her like a queen and had an important job. A doctor, a lawyer. Another workaholic who appreciated the same traits in her.

Not a tattooed rock star whose idea of morning was sometime around noon.

Not even one who made her want to walk into the studio, straddle his lap, and sink her fingers into his hair before she kissed him until she couldn’t breathe. Just like last night.

Shit. Just . . . shit. She needed to get out of here before she did something really stupid.

The music stopped, breaking the spell and she froze, even to the point of holding her breath.

She should leave now. While he was occupied with his computer.

But her gaze got caught on the bare skin of his neck. On the tiny bit of ink she could see above the collar of his t-shirt, which clung to his back and made her want to strip it off to see what it hid from her view.

Oh my god. She had to suck in air before she made an idiot of herself.

He got up, startling her and making her scurry farther into the shadows until she had her back against the wall. He didn’t turn toward the window, though. Instead, he reached for his guitar, the electric she had yet to see him touch. The one that looked like it’d seen more than a few years of service.

When he sat back down on the piano bench, she could see his face but was pretty sure he hadn’t seen her. His eyes were shut tight as he played, and this time the music was harsher, angrier. Hypnotic.

The fingers that had caressed the piano keys now plucked at the strings with lightning speed. Her body remembered how he’d used those fingers on her body last night and she responded with a surge of heat and a rush of wetness between her thighs.

She wanted him to make her come again.

No. No, it wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

Not taking her eyes off him, she slid a couple of steps toward the door and grabbed the handle at her back.

Easing the door open, she slid through it. Her last glimpse of Sebastian showed he still had his eyes closed.

As the door closed, cutting her off from him, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

“Is he still alive or will I find a dead body in there?”

She screamed and spun around so fast, she almost lost her footing.

“Damn it, Greg! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

She reacted automatically, smacking at his broad chest with one hand, then shaking it out when all she did was crack her knuckles on solid muscle.

Crossing his arms over said chest, her boss lifted an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything else.

Scowling, she rubbed at her throbbing knuckles. “He’s fine. He’s working.”

“Glad to hear it. Now you wanna tell me what happened last night?”

God, she so hoped she didn’t blush bright red. Or, if she did, that he attributed it to having scared the crap out of her.

“He’s fine. He just got a little claustrophobic and needed some air.”

Where the hell was this need to protect him coming from? But she knew how much Sebastian looked up to Greg. He wouldn’t want to look bad in Greg’s eyes.

Greg’s expression didn’t change. “You’re telling me he’s fine but that he had a panic attack. I thought he was over those.”

Obviously, Sebastian had talked to Greg about this but she still felt disloyal saying anything on Sebastian’s behalf. “You should talk to him.”

Now Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d you two go last night when you left the restaurant?”

“For a walk. We ended up at a bar. At a concert.”

“And you were with him the whole time?”

She felt that blush creeping onto her cheeks. “No. I left before he did. He knew the band. I believe he stayed to talk to them.”

She actually had no idea what he’d done after she’d left, but she couldn’t say that to Greg.

Wait? Did Greg think Sebastian would fall into old, bad habits?

Her back went stiff at the thought. She refused to believe he would. And she couldn’t believe Greg would think that, either.

“Why’d you leave him there?” Greg asked.

Forcing a put-upon sigh, she put her hands on her hips and gave him her patented exasperated glare. “He’s a grown man. He seemed fine when I left. And he’s been clean for almost a year.”

And you were the one having trouble breathing.

And there was her sister’s voice again.

Greg’s gaze narrowed even more. Damn, the man was way too perceptive. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Time to get back to work. “Nothing. I need to get moving. I have too much to do today. And so do you. You have that meeting with Val on set this afternoon, and you’ve got phone calls with John Davidson and Peter MacDonald this morning. How’s the new treatment coming?”

He didn’t answer right away, just stared at her like he could read her mind. Sometimes, she actually thought he could. Pretty damn freaky, but then it worked both ways. It’s why they worked so well together.

Greg sighed. “And what’s on your busy agenda for the day?”

She stifled a sigh of relief. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go, but he’d let her off the hook for right now. “I’m interviewing receptionists.”

His lips curved. “Well, damn, finally easing up on the reins a little. Good to know.”

She wanted to stick her tongue out at him but settled for rolling her eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think I can do everything. I just know I can do it better than most people.”

Greg was still laughing when she turned to head back to her office.

But she stopped short when she saw Sebastian standing at the end of the hall.

“Uh, we got any bandages around here?”

Then he held up this fingers. His bloody fingers.

And everything went wavy for a few seconds.

“Oh my god.”

She caught a glimpse of the shock on Sebastian’s face as she swayed, her eyes closing for several seconds.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Sebastian running toward her but felt Greg’s hands catch her arms from behind and hold her upright.

“You’ve managed to find Tru’s one weakness,” she heard Greg say. “A little blood and she ends up on the floor.”

“I do not.” She sucked in a few deep breaths, fighting against the dizziness. “I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

“Not really, babe.”

Greg’s wry tone had the desired effect and her backbone straightened as she blinked away her weakness. And stiffened her muscles to stand on her own.

“Well, I am now.”

She forced herself to meet Sebastian’s gaze and found herself grinning at his stunned expression.

“Well, damn. Look at that. He’s speechless.”

Sebastian shook his head, sighing as he took a step back. “Nah, I’m just amazed that Miss Truly Perfect has any weaknesses.”

His statement held so little of his usual prickly teasing that her back didn’t immediately go up.

And she had the distinct feeling he was becoming a very huge weakness.

With a shake of her head, she decided to let that one slide because he really was bleeding. And it was dripping on the floor.

Without looking at his hands again, she took another step away from Greg, satisfied her rebellious knees would hold her now, and waved Sebastian toward the office next to hers where they kept a fully stocked first-aid kit.

Yes, yes. She was that prepared. Sue her.

“So, what happened?” She opened the large white box on the wall and removed disinfectant, gauze pads, bandages, and tape.

“Not really sure. I guess . . . I haven’t played like that for a while and I split the skin.”

As she turned, she caught sight of Greg in the doorway, but he didn’t stay. Just nodded once, then disappeared.

And shit, they were alone again.

“Here, give me the stuff.” He held out his left hand, the one that wasn’t actively bleeding. “I can do it myself. I don’t wanna get blood on your clothes if you keel over again.”

“I’ll be fine. Give me your hand.”

He huffed but held out his hand. “Just put on the bandages. No need to get all fancy.”

“Let me clean them first, you big baby. Don’t want them to get infected, do you? Here, sit down. I can’t do this while you hover over me.”

But when he sat, she realized he was now looking straight into her eyes. Before she could avoid his gaze by staring at his chest.

Those eyes were more blue than green today, a stormy blue that made her want to cup his jaw in her hands and kiss him.

Shit.

Still standing, she quickly looked down at his hands and had to suck in a deep breath.

“Damn, Tru. Are you really okay?”

She nodded, not looking at him. “I’m fine. Let me clean you up and you can get back to work.”

Neither of them said anything while she used hydrogen peroxide and gauze to clean and bandage the two fingers he’d split open. She noticed then how scarred his fingers were, almost as if he’d taken a knife at some point and slashed them.

Still holding on to his hands, she rubbed her thumbs over his fingertips, barely realizing what she was doing.

“You play as long and as much as we do and you end up with a few scars.” His voice was a low rumble that hit a place deep inside her. “I haven’t been playing enough lately to rebuild the calluses. Until then, I’ll bleed a little. No biggie.”

“Do they hurt?”

He shrugged. “You get used to it.”

She heard something in his voice that made her look into his eyes again, trying to get a read on him.

He watched her just as intently, then he sighed and glanced back down at his fingers.

“Look, about last night . . .” he said but didn’t continue.

Yes, they really did need to have this talk so they could put what happened behind them. Forget it happened. Hopefully.

Yeah, right.

She nodded. “I think we can both agree that last night was an anomaly brought on by stress.”

His head shot up, his gaze locked back on hers, the intensity she’d seen there last night flaring again.

Her heart began to race and her lungs were suddenly fighting for air.

“No.” He said the word deliberately, as if he thought she wouldn’t understand him. “I don’t think we can.”

She blinked. “And why would you think that?”

He’d thrown her for a loop. She would’ve bet good money that he’d be just as anxious as she was to forget the whole incident had ever happened.

Twenty-four hours before, she’d been so angry with him she was ready to tear off his head.

Then last night . . . She wanted to write that off as heat-of-the-moment insanity.

But the look in his eyes was telling her something completely different. Something she didn’t think she wanted to know.

She had to suck in another breath before she could answer. “Because I think we both know it was a mistake.”

He went silent, and she chanced a quick look at his face. And got caught in his now warm-sea-blue eyes. The emotion she saw there was stunning. And confusing as all hell.

He looked like he wanted to kiss her again.

She found herself taking a step away before she realized she was moving.

“You don’t have one damn clue what I think.” He stood, and her eyes followed him all the way up. “So I’m going to give you a hint.”

Once again, she saw him coming and did nothing to stop him. And this time, since she knew what to expect, she also knew how much she wanted it.

His lips sealed over hers with a singular purpose. To show her exactly why she was so totally full of shit. Why last night hadn’t been a mistake and why doing it again, this time naked, would be a very, very good idea.

His hands came to frame her face and hold her steady for his devastatingly thorough kiss. His tongue parted her lips and slid against hers with the express purpose of making her wet.

Her body responded immediately, as if she’d been waiting for him to kiss her again, to touch her and make it hard for her to breathe. For her nipples to peak and her breasts to ache for him to touch them, mold them with his palms.

God, she was getting wet from the sensuous slide of his tongue against hers and the feel of his palms against her jaw.

How did he do this to her? How did he make her want him so badly that nothing else mattered?

Her hands reached for his hips to draw him closer—

And he took a step back.

Her eyes flew open to find him staring down at her, his eyes an intense blue now.

“That was no fucking mistake.”

Then he turned around and walked away.