Page 18 of Wanting the Winger

He turns to go and Lainey follows, giving me a withering look.It takes all my self-control not to follow them.Instead, I go to the front window, watching Shane’s SUV as she follows him to it.If he even looks like he might lay a hand on her, I’ll be on him so damn fast he won’t know what hit him.

He gets inside and drives away without another word to her.Asshole.

Lainey comes back inside, tears on her face as she walks past me to go upstairs.

“Lane,” I say softly.“Hey.”

She won’t even acknowledge me.I hear her bedroom door open and close upstairs, and I sit back down on the couch.Bruce lets out a quick, soft whine.

“Don’t you start with me, too,” I grumble.

He yowls, talking back.I ignore him, curling up on my side since I can’t fit my entire body on the couch.

I’m feeling sober as fuck now.Even my dog is mad at me.

ChapterSix

Lainey

“Hey.”Sitting at the kitchen table, Bash looks up from his phone.“Good morning.”

I flip him off.All I need is my water bottle and I’m leaving.I swipe it from the fridge, keeping my expression frosty.

We haven’t spoken since Shane left Saturday.Shane is pretty much over it, but I’m not.I spent all day yesterday exploring Cleveland on my own.I checked out bookstores, coffee shops and boutiques.When I got back to Bash’s with the carryout I’d picked up for dinner, I took it to my room.

I’m so ready to get back into the lab today.My shitty weekend was entirely Bash’s fault, and if anything, I’m even more pissed off at him now than I was then.

“Come on, Lane.Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

My plan to give him the silent treatment goes to shit, thanks to my temper.

“Why would I want that?You’re not sorry!You’d just be saying it to placate me.”

“Isn’t the point that I’m willing to say it?”

Anger seeps out of my pores.It’s not just anger at him but at myself, too.Because despite him being the worst person in the world, I can’t help noticing the way his arms look in his T-shirt.His shoulders and biceps fill it.And he’s wearing a backward baseball hat, which is my weakness.

On him only, which is even worse.Shane doesn’t wear baseball hats, and when I asked him to wear one backward once, it did nothing for me.

But my own biochemistry hijacks me when I’m around Sebastian Stone.No matter how many times I tell myself I’ve moved on and I’m not attracted to him anymore, when I’m around him, my brain floods with phenylethylamine.

I can describe it scientifically, but the reality is like jumping off a cliff with my eyes closed.Racing heartbeat and dry mouth.Pounding pulse and inability to concentrate.It’s terrifying but also exhilarating.

Why did I think living with him for an entire summer was a good idea?It’s saving me money, but it’s costing me peace.His few days’ worth of unshaven, dark stubble is doing things to me.Making me sweat.Making my breasts feel heavier.

He stands up and walks over to me, the cedar and amber scents in his soap making my heart pound.

“I’ll never think he’s good enough for you,” he says softly.

I shake my head.“He’s not perfect, but neither am I.”

“Yes, you are.In all the ways that matter, you are.”

I push my glasses up on my nose.“I was lonely before Shane asked me out, Bash.My best friend lives in London and I’m not exactly a social butterfly.Now I have someone, and it’s nice.”

His brown eyes are locked onto me.I think of the lovesick teenage me who wanted nothing more than this—his undivided attention.Even if it wasn’t the kind of attention I really wanted from him.

“It shouldn’t be nice, though.”His low voice has a hint of gravel.“It should take your breath away.Take over your life.Make you question your sanity.”

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