Page 28 of Piece By Piece

Great, I’m pathetic enough for Sebastian to spare me some decency. I lift my head again, pretty sure that my unshed tears are invisible in the dim light, and talk to him with my best neutral expression. “So, what was wrong with the blonde?”

“Nothing. She just wasn’t able to truly capture my attention and keep it. No one can,” he shrugs.

“Harsh,” I say.

“And sadly true. Believe me, I’m not any happier about it than they are.”

I take a long sip of my drink and no matter how sure I am that I shouldn’t ask it, my next words force their way past my lips. “What about the brunette a week ago?” Do I sound pathetic? Yes, I do. Do I care? Yes, I do. But Sebastian just seems to have a thing for being around when I’m at my worst so here we are.

“She was a good kisser. That’s all I can judge,” he says, studying me closely and even though I have no reason to take his word for it, I can feel a weight lift from my shoulders. I don’t know why I care. I know I shouldn’t. Truth is, I do nonetheless.

My face must be showing my satisfaction because Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Try to look a little less happy about my dry streak, will you?”

I just shake my head, biting back a smile. What a surprise. This interaction took a whole one-eighty.

Chapter 16

Sebastian

The girl is smiling again. Thank fuck. For a second, it looked like she was about to cry and I certainly wouldn’t have known how to act then. I’ve never seen Aliena sad before. Sure? I’ve been faced with her anger – a lot of that – fear recently, and most of all joy. Not sadness.

And yet there she was for a second; tired, defeated Aliena who didn’t have her walls up. Meanwhile, I hadn’t been aware those walls existed in the first place. Now I’m questioning how this girl I have a weird infatuation with is really doing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your dry streak doesn’t concern me in the least. You must be imagining whatever happiness you’re seeing on my face,” she teases, looking smug as hell.

I’d like to tell her that she has everything to do with my dry streak, that she is the very source of it. Instead, I say, “Yeah, sure I am.”

She downs the rest of her drink and jumps off her bar stool, standing almost up against me. So much so that she has to crane her neck to look at me with that big smile. “If you’re not busy losing interest in a nice girl right now, how about you come dance with your friend? You did well enough the last time, I’d say.”

What a fucking flirt. Here she is, the little troublemaker, blinking up at me through her lashes, her breasts faintly brushing against my chest with every soft breath she takes. My inner eagerness to tell her yes, that I’d be more than happy to dance with her, is just more proof that she has me wrapped around her finger.

I hold out my arm for her to take, mumbling, “If you insist.”

She takes my arm and starts leading me toward the door. As we walk past the couches, I can’t help a glance in Mattheo’s direction. As expected, his attentive eyes follow his friend and me suspiciously. I try to hide the satisfaction I get from it.

“Stop acting like I’m leading you to the gallows. If you don’t feel like dancing, I’ll go look for another partner,” she finally says as we reach the stairs and I realize I must’ve tried hiding my satisfaction a little too hard.

Great, and now the image of her dancing with another man is stuck in my mind. Maybe that’s why my voice is so urgent when I protest, “No.”

She chuckles and keeps pulling me down the stairs. At the bottom of them, she leans in to speak into my ear since the music is too loud to understand otherwise. Her gentle touch on my shoulder spreads awareness through my whole body.

“But if you’re going to be a bitch about it again once we’re done, you better think again,” she says, then pulls away enough to level me with a hard stare.

So. Fucking. Beautiful.

I nod, then lean down to talk into her ear. My heart starts racing at the close-up of the elegant swing of her neck and the scent of her sweet perfume. “That’s fair. I’m sorry forlast week. All of it – other than the dancing. What I did with that woman was petty and I’m sorry for what I said. Especially on your birthday.

“Just know that you drove me fucking crazy with what you did with Mattheo, and I still don’t think I’m over it. Nonetheless, I was a jerk last week,” I say, struggling to find the right words to apologize. I was never good at it. Never had much practice either. I get that from my father.

She pulls away enough to look at me when she asks. “Why? Why did it drive you so crazy, Seb?”

“Why did I make you cry when I followed her into the bathroom?” I shoot back. After a thoughtful second, Aliena nods to herself.

“I don’t understand what we are.” At that, I chuckle. Look at us agreeing on something.

“Neither do I,” I tell her truthfully. She nods again, then smiles. Without another word, she just pulls me into the middle of the crowd and starts dancing again, with her front against mine and her face near the crook of my neck.

“Let’s recap,” she starts, dancing as if it’s all she’s ever known. I can’t see her face now and it makes it easier to talk. She’s so pretty it’s distracting. “It drives you crazy to see me with someone else.”

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