Page 71 of Belonging to Them

“How do you feel, babe?”Sebastian asks.

“Famished,” I say.

“I’ll order something,” he says.“What do you want?”

“Actually, I want to get some groceries.I want breakfast for dinner, and I want to make it.”I’ve spent all day cooped up in the penthouse and it’s starting to feel like a prison, although I’d never admit that to the guys.It was a prison of my own making, and had nothing to do with them.

Now that I have Ironwood’s assurance that Tommy still has a fighting chance, I need to get out and move around a little.

* * *

Kingston

After Ella leaves with her bodyguards, Sebastian fucks off to the studio to dick around with his guitar.

I want to do something nice for Ella, but I’m not sure what.She’s already got it in her head to cook breakfast for dinner.I open the refrigerator and give a critical look to what’s inside.A little basket of strawberries rests on the top shelf, so I take them out.I can slice them to put over the waffles or pancakes or whatever Ella decides to make.

Contrary to all of Bash’s shit-talk about how I don’t know how to find anything in the kitchen, I am actually not terrible at food prep.I grab a cutting board and small knife, wash the strawberries, and get to work.In no time, I have a nice little mound of delectable-looking strawberry slices, perfect as a side for breakfast-for-dinner.

“Nice,” Sebastian says, coming from the hall toward me.“She’ll love that.”

“Poor girl’s been under so much stress lately,” I say.“I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, don’t leave her with a messy kitchen,” he says with a laugh.

Flipping him off, I gather the strawberry stems and carry them to the pull-out cabinet where the trash and recycling are hidden.But when I dump them in, one of the stems goes wide and falls between the two bins.

“Fucking hell, damn it,” I say, crouching low to look into the trash drawer.The stupid piece of strawberry fell beneath the recycling bin, I think.I don’t want it to get rotten in there.

Bash just laughs.

“A little help, asshole?”I say.

“You don’t need my fucking help, just leave it.”

“I’m not leaving disgusting shit for the house cleaner to have to deal with later this week.”I reach around the base of the recycling bin, but all I succeed in doing is pushing the stem back even farther.

Cursing some more, I haul the recycling bin all the way out of the pull-out cabinet.The innocent little strawberry stem is right there.Feeling victorious, I grab it and throw it in the trash where it belongs, and where it can no longer thwart me.

“Happy now?”Bash asks.

I flip him off again and fit the recycling bin back into its little frame.As it locks into place, something tumbles from the side, jarred loose from all the movement.A white and purple box, not much longer than my hand.

Curious, because I’ve never purchased anything in a box like this, I look at the label as I move to throw it away.

What.The.Fuck.It’s a pregnancy test box.

* * *

Sebastian

Kingston holds up a bit of trash, and I laugh again.“It’s like trash and recycling are out to get you tonight, I swear,” I say.

“No, fuckinglook,” he says as he brandishes a flimsy cardboard package.

“If you’d stop waving it around like a lunatic, maybe I could see what it says.”

He shoves it at me.The cardboard crunches against my chest and I take it in hand to look at it.The font is bold and big, white on a purple background.