Never Gonna Happen - Cynthia Eden Page 0,77
pavement that people keep whispering to me about—the perp was going to shoot you in the back. She stopped him. She shot him—twice—and how do you thank her for saving your life? By breaking up with her?” Disgusted, Antony released Sebastian and stepped back. “You don’t deserve her.”
The perp was going to shoot you in the back.
Antony spun on his heel and headed for the door.
“I never deserved her,” Sebastian said quietly. “That was the problem. I knew it even as I wanted her.”
Antony glanced back at him. “If you walk away from her now, then hell, no, you didn’t deserve her. Because if a woman is willing to kill for you, if she’s willing to go to those lengths to keep you safe, then you hold tight to her. You don’t let anyone come between you.”
There was nothing he wanted more than to run right to Alyssa. “But I’ll keep bringing danger to her. She won’t ever be safe with me.”
Antony’s savage expression softened. A small, super tiny bit of softening. “Is that what this crap is about? You think you can keep her safe by walking away?”
“I’m a spy—”
“Then quit! How about just be the billionaire asshole that everyone thinks you are? Everyone but my sister, by the way. Because she spouted lots of craziness about how you really saw her and how you knew her favorite holiday—”
“Obviously, the Fourth of July,” he said. “You know how her face lights up and she gets that big smile whenever she sees fireworks.”
Antony’s eyes narrowed. “And how you know what kind of ridiculous body lotion she wears.”
“There’s nothing ridiculous about lavender. The lotion smells fantastic. She smells fantastic.”
Antony’s arms crossed over his chest. “What’s her favorite bakery?”
“Over the Moon.” He shrugged. “She likes their chocolate chip muffins.”
“Since when?”
“Uh, since she opened her jewelry business? Remember when we were helping her to set up the website—”
“You did that. I told you we could just send a tech over.”
“Well, I had to make sure it was done right. Anyway, she was eating their chocolate chip muffins and she said that she liked them far better than any other—”
Antony held up his hand. “What’s my favorite holiday?”
“Christmas.”
“And my favorite restaurant?”
“The Italian place down on Fourteenth. Rizzoli’s.”
Disappointment darkened Antony’s eyes. His lips twisted. “I was right. You remember the same shit about everyone. She’s not special to you.” He turned away. “You’re good at spouting the right words, but Alyssa doesn’t get that you can spout those words to anyone. Because you remember everything.” He reached for the door.
Yeah, he did remember everything. When it came to Alyssa, every single memory he possessed was in sharp focus. “On her twenty-first birthday, she was wearing faded jeans, black converse shoes, and this blue top that fell off one shoulder. I thought she was the sexiest woman I’d ever seen, but you were standing at my side, breathing down my neck, and telling me that I had better keep my hands off your sister.”
Antony stiffened. “Sometimes, you make me want to punch you in the face.”
“She was blowing out her candles and making a wish, and it was stupid, but I made a wish, too.”
Antony looked back at him. “If you tell me that you wished you could fuck my sister, I will break your pretty-boy face.”
“I wished that she’d always get whatever she wanted. I wanted her to always smile because she had the most amazing smile I’d ever seen. It lit up her eyes.”
Silence.
Sebastian looked away. His gaze darted to the one-way glass. Shit. Dwight was being escorted out. He’d missed the last part of the interrogation.
“You get that I’m a spy, too, don’t you?” Antony spoke haltingly. “Like, you haven’t somehow missed that important point?”
Sebastian raked a hand over his face. “Of course, I get that.”
“Since she’s my sister, the sister of a spy…you get that puts her at risk, right? I mean, isn’t that how this whole mess started? Because you thought I’d sent you a text saying my cover was blown? That Alyssa was in danger?”
“Being the sister of a spy is different than being married to spy.” He looked back at Antony, just in time to see Antony’s eyes flare in surprise. “What?”
Antony turned to fully face him. “You thought you’d marry her?”
In my fantasies, hell, yes. “No. I mean, why would she want to marry someone who would have to lie to her about the jobs he does? Someone who keeps secrets and who would bring danger into her