Page 113 of Right Where I Want You

He gasped. “Julia Roberts in a bubble bath!” he cried. “Warn a girl before you blurt out something likethat.”

It felt good to laugh. “I knew you’d get it out of me in the next few minutesanyway.”

He seized my shoulders to push me back into my own seat. “When wasthis?”

“Lastnight.”

“Spilleverything.”

“Not much to say. It ended about as quickly as itstarted.”

He grimaced. “Already?”

I caught Luciano up on everything that’d happened since he’d slept over, from Sebastian ambushing me outside my apartment for a faux date to doga in the park to our thwarted spaghetti kiss. And how one of the best days ever had turned into an even betternight.

“That sounds like the date of a flipping lifetime,” Luciano said. “How the hell did things gobad?”

I tugged my skirt down as far as it would go. It was too cold not to have tights on, but I hadn’t had a moment to change since work. “When we woke up, I felt guilty for keeping the job offer from him. So I toldhim.”

He sat back. “Oh.Shit.”

“Yeah. You won’t believe hisresponse.”

Luciano shook his head. “I’m imagining all kinds of curse words. Was he at least clothed when he flew off thehandle?”

“He was. I wasn’t.” I picked at my chipping nail polish. “Not that he really flew off the handle at all. I was actually the one who gotmad.”

“Did you?” Luciano looked impressed. “Why?”

I dropped my hands in my lap. “I told him I got the offer, but I never said I wasn’t taking it. He just assumed I wouldn’t accept out of loyalty to him. I was ‘too good of a person’ to steal his job, which is more or less the patronizing way he putit.”

“Ah.” Luciano nodded slowly. “And even though you weren’t going to take it, it felt like he expected you notto.”

I nodded. “It all went downhill from there. He said I wasn’t qualified for the job. I accused him of sleeping with me so I’d be easier tomanipulate.”

“Jesus, G. Do you really believe he’d dothat?”

I twisted the pendant of my necklace. Ididn’tthink so, but after he’d asked if I was trying to ship him back to Boston, it’d felt like a fair comeback. “Maybe,” I said, because I wasn’t done being angry. “But it doesn’t matter. We’reover.”

“Hmm.” Luciano sighed. “Were you worried it’d become a Neal situation all overagain?”

“Obviously,” I said, scratching my temple. Except, even though I’d insinuated Sebastian was like Neal, he’d never reallyintentionallymade me feel like I didn’t matter. Neal had employed manipulation to control me. For a moment, in the breakroom with Sebastian, I’d retreated into a memory of a similar argument with Neal over where to spend Thanksgiving—only in that one, I’d backed down. With Sebastian, I fought. Had I regained my strength, or was it simply that I wasn’t afraid to be myself with him, no matter how hard weargued?

“Actually, Sebastian’s not like that,” I admitted. “I don’t really believe he planned the date with bad intentions. Even though he tricked me into going on it in the firstplace.”

“I see. So if I have it right, you ended things, not him? What’d he say tothat?”

“He apologized . . . with aButterfinger.”

“Girl, that can’t mean what I think it does.” Luciano pursed his lips. “You’re not thatexperimental.”

I shoved him. “I’m talking about the candybar.”

“In under forty-eight hours, he took you and Bruno on a date, gave you the best sex of your life, and brought you chocolate. And you’re upset—why?”

I bit my bottom lip. “I never said it was the best sex of mylife.”

“I’ve only met the man once, but his BDE is off thecharts.”