Never Gonna Happen - Cynthia Eden Page 0,36
outside of Sebastian’s bedroom. Her toes curled into the lush carpeting. Her hands rubbed against the front of her jogging pants—mostly because her palms were crazy sweaty. It was the middle of the night. Thunder was rumbling outside. Lightning kept crashing.
And she’d finally hauled herself to his door.
Just knock. Do it.
After Dex had left earlier that evening, things had been…tense. Way tense. Scary tense.
Because Sebastian had looked scary.
She’d never seen him quite that way before. He’d had a knife to Dex’s throat. An actual knife. His face had been etched into cold, furious lines, and when he’d turned his head toward her, she’d never seen his gaze appear so lethal.
She’d been staring at a stranger.
And…yes, he’d frightened her.
But they needed to talk. He’d been avoiding her ever since that scene, and they couldn’t go on like this. So, in the middle of the night, when she hadn’t been able to sleep, she’d decided to go to him.
Her hand lifted. She balled up her sweaty fingers and rapped on the door.
No answer.
She rapped again.
Still no answer.
Maybe she should go back to bed.
Or maybe he was just a super sound sleeper who needed another rap.
She rapped again. Harder. And—
The door swung open. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
He wasn’t a sound sleeper. He was way, way too sexy.
Every bit of moisture dried up in her mouth. Sebastian was wearing a pair of what appeared to be silk boxers. His chest was bare. The man’s muscles were a thing of beauty. Light spilled from somewhere behind him, and it outlined the awesome width of his shoulders. His hair was mussed, his body tight, and when her gaze may have darted down…
“Oh, sure, now you look at me like you want to eat me alive.”
Her gaze snapped right back up to his. She felt heat singe her cheeks.
He lifted a glass. Sipped whatever liquid was in there. “But before, you stared at me like I was the friggin’ devil.” He didn’t sip again. He drained the glass. Then turned away. “Go to bed, Alyssa.”
She didn’t move. He’d left the door open. Sure, he’d told her to go to bed, which completely sounded like a dismissal—because it was—but she couldn’t give up. Since he’d left the door open, she decided to count it as an invitation, and she stepped over the threshold.
He immediately whipped back around toward her. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to talk to you.” She eyed the empty glass that he clutched. “But, first, are you drunk?”
Bitter laughter slipped from him. “I wish.”
“That’s not exactly a yes or no answer.”
“No, I’m not drunk. If I were drunk, things would be a whole lot easier.” A pause. “But they’re never easy with you, are they? I get close to what I want, then it’s snatched away. Story of my life. Don’t know why I thought things would suddenly be different.”
“You’ve never told me much about your life.” She inched a bit closer to him.
“Why bore you with gory details?”
“I don’t think there is much about you that is gory.”
More of the bitter laughter that she didn’t particularly like. “That’s because you don’t know me. Okay, fine, is that why you came in here in your sexy outfit? Because you wanted to learn all my secrets?”
She glanced down at the jogging pants and the white t-shirt she wore. “Um, I think we should discuss what you believe is a sexy outfit.”
“That’s easy.” He plunked the glass down on his nightstand. “Anything you wear.”
Oh, that was rather sweet. Wasn’t it? Why couldn’t she get a handle on him? “Is that one of your lines?” Alyssa asked suspiciously. “Do you tell that to lots of women?”
“So, let’s get something straight here. Usually, women are eager to hop in bed with me. Might shock you to discover that I don’t have to feed them lines.” He pointed at her. “You’re an exception. Instead of running to me, you run away.” He raked his gaze over her. “Would it kill you to try running to me for once?”
“I don’t know…” Alyssa’s tongue swiped across her lower lip. “Do you have a knife hidden on you right now?”
“You would go back to that.” He blew out a breath. “I wasn’t gonna cut the bastard’s throat. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
It is nice to hear, yes. “If you weren’t going to cut him, then why have the knife ready? I thought you were working with him—”
“I do work with him. Doesn’t mean I always like