Page 61 of The Flirty Forward

Sebastian scowls. “I’m fine.”

Gunner and Aiden both turn and look at me. “He still has a headache that won’t go away,” I tell them. Even Sebastian turns to look at me, and I feel self-conscious. “What?”

He squeezes my hand. “Nothing. Is it okay if we head out?”

Gunner nods. “Yeah, you’re good. We’ll see you at practice on Monday. Get some rest over the weekend.” They both give Sebastian a hand clasp and one of those guy versions of a hug. It takes a little while to make it out to the parking lot and finally to his car. I feel exhausted; I can’t imagine how he’s feeling. The guy’s just recovering from a concussion.

“You’ve got to be exhausted. Do you want me to drive?” I ask when we finally get to the car. I see the slightest hesitation, even though he tries to hide it.

“I’m fine, Doll.”

“Sebastian, just let me drive. I know you have a headache, and I know you’re exhausted.” When he doesn’t give me the keys, I put my hands on my hips. “Don’t be too macho to accept help. I know you’re a professional athlete; I know you’re inincredible shape. But tonight, you need some help. Just let me help you.” I put my hands out. “Keys.”

He finally drops them in my hand. “Thanks.”

I can tell he’s not happy about surrendering control, but it is what it is. I settle behind the steering wheel, and he settles in the passenger seat. “Are you surprised the guys won without you?” I ask, trying to lessen some of the tension.

“No.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and I don’t push him. The radio quietly plays as we make the drive to my house. As we start getting close, though, I wonder if I should have taken him to his house. When I glance over and see his eyes are closed, I stick with my decision. I figure it’s late; tomorrow, we can move him back to his house.

It’s only when I stop the car that he wakes up. He shakes his head, frowning. “Sorry I fell asleep, Doll. Thanks for driving.”

Once inside, I drop my purse on the kitchen counter. He locks the door and turns to face me. Before it can get awkward, I say goodnight. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Then I flee to my room. It only takes me a few minutes to prepare for bed.

The first thing that drifts into my consciousness the next morning is the smell of bacon. I sit up, confused for a moment. I’m pretty sure I smell bacon, coffee, and something that smells a lot like a lazy Saturday morning breakfast. I climb out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt and a pair of slippers and wander out to the kitchen. My sleep-addled brain is not prepared for the sight in the kitchen. I stop a few feet from the kitchen and watch as Sebastian moves around the kitchen like it’s his own personal workstation. Something must clue him in to my presence because he turns around. His smile is bright. “Good morning,” he says in a bright, chipper voice.

Because I’m still trying to figure out what he’s doing in my kitchen, I just stare at him. I decide not to try to figure it outbefore coffee. I walk into the kitchen and reach up to grab a mug out of the cabinet and place it under my Keurig and start a cup of coffee. When I turn, Sebastian’s eyes are glued to me. He blinks and looks back at the stove, shaking his head slightly. I walk over to the fridge to grab creamer, but he stops me and hands me my vanilla creamer. “Thanks.” I take a few sips as soon as it’s brewed; I need the caffeine. When it hits my system, and I find myself a little more awake, I face Sebastian. “What?” I demand.

He bites back a smile. “Nothing.” But when he smiles again as he goes back to the stove, my eyes narrow on him.

“Sebastian Slater Hart.”

His gaze whips to mine, his eyes dancing. “Not my middle name, Babe.”

“Steven?” He shakes his head, still smiling. “Sergeant?”

His eyebrows furrow. “You think my parents would name me Sebastian Sergeant?”

I throw up my hands, exasperated. “I don’t know. I was just trying to think ofSnames.”

“You know of anyone who has Sergeant for a name, Doll?” he asks, his voice amused. I scowl at him, and his grin widens. “How about we feed you? I think you’re a little hangry.” My scowl deepens, but it doesn’t affect him in the slightest. “Have a seat.” He gestures to a chair.

“You do realize this is my kitchen, right?”

“Yes, Doll. I am aware of that fact. Now sit, so I can feed you.”

“How did you find anything to cook with? I’m pretty sure I have no groceries.”

“Yeah. I noticed that. I ran out and grabbed some stuff.”

I stare at him. “You already went to the grocery store this morning and made breakfast?”How long did I sleep in?I glance at the clock; it’s just a few minutes before nine.

“I was up early. All the extra sleep the last few days made me unable to sleep in. Now sit, so you can eat.”

“If it’s weird healthy, I don’t want it.”

His eyes widen. “Weird healthy? I think I’m offended.”

---