Page 76 of Hell Bent

Ben said, “The team only has a certain amount they can spend on salaries, so it’s more even and the same team doesn’t win every season. That’s why they make it public, so everybody knows that they obeyed the rules, or the law, or whatever it is. Except that Sebastian’s kicked really well since that contract, so maybe, if he keeps doing good?—"

Sebastian said, “I cannot believe we’re discussing the least important thing that’s happening right now.”

I said, “Well, there’s not that much interesting to say about my nosebleed.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, “and my nightmare’s not exactly a thrilling report either. It was a nightmare, that’s all. I was trying to get to my house in a snowstorm, and there was ababy there. I don’t know why. I don’t know any babies. I was trying to carry the baby, to save it from the storm, but it kept falling out of my hands and getting lost in the snow. It sucked, and I’d rather talk about Sebastian’s salary. If you make one-point-nine million dollars a year, how come you don’t even have a video game system? Or any bling? Or a better car?”

“Because I’m not seventeen years old,” Sebastian said, “or a tool, and my car works fine. I’d rather save the money for, say, educating my nephew.”

“You don’t have to educate me. My mom told me not to worry, because there’s money. She said there’s a?—”

“A trust,” Sebastian said. “I know. She told me today, and told me where the paperwork was. I have it, and I’ll go over it with you later.”

“So you could totally buy a better car,” Ben said.

I said, “That must have been a fun conversation.”

“Not my favorite, no.” Sebastian’s tone was clipped.

I removed my hand again. Carefully. “Good news. The bleeding’s stopped.”

Ben said, “I’m never going to be able to go back to sleep tonight. I guess I’ll go hang out in my room. Are you sure you’re OK?” he asked me.

“I’m sure. Absolutely. I’ll just—” I was going to slide off Sebastian’s lap, then remembered the nightgown thing. “Could you take me back to your room?” I asked him.

He sighed. “See, I love that. You actually asking me for help. That’s what I’m talking about. A person could even think you trust me.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Probably because you broke her nose. Really romantic, dude. Great job. I’ve never even asked a girl out, but I’m pretty sure I’d do better than you.” He stood up. “Come on, Lexi. And if this is supposed to be my steady new living situation so I don’t freak out about my future, it’s not working out all that great. For your information.”

30

UNDER CONTROL

Sebastian

Ben headed off to bed, and Alix said, “The rug’s not too bad, fortunately, but the floor— Paper towels.”

“I’ve got it.”

She wasn’t listening, of course. She’d already headed into the kitchen. I followed her in there, took the wad of paper towels from her hand, and said, “What part of ‘I’ve got it’ wasn’t clear?”

She said, “It’s my mess.” I laughed, and she said, “What?”

“Your mess,” I said, “isn’t on the floor. I’ve got the floor.”

Her hand flew to her face, and I said, “Yeah.”

“Your sheets, too,” she said from behind her hand.

I sighed. “Would you go get cleaned up, please? How did this go from me kissing you and giving you some dirty talk, not to mention finally getting to touch some of that body of yours, all the way back to you annoying me?”

“Well, gee,” she said, “maybe I should just go.”

Now, I did bang my head. Put my two hands against the wall and banged. She was laughing, trying to pull me away, saying, “Sebastian! Stop it!”

“I will stop,” I said, “when you go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. And get a new ice pack for your nose, too.” I wanted to ask,Should you be working tomorrow after that?If I did, though, she’d just say something about football players having no right to talk, and worse, she’d be right. So I didn’t. I just stood there, crossed my arms, and gave her my best hard look until she said, “Fine,” switched out her ice pack, and marched out of there. Blood on her nose, her upper lip, her chin, her neck, her chest. And all the way defiant.

Too bad I seemed to like defiant women. Apparently, I enjoyed having my life made difficult. I cleaned up the blood on the hardwood floors, ignored the blood on the rug—a note and a big old tip for the cleaners, I figured—and stripped the sheets. My second time this week tossing sheets into the washing machine, because my new life seemed destined to be full of mess and bodily fluids. Unfortunately, not therightbodily fluids.