Page 66 of Mr. Aster
“You’d be shocked by how married men can act when they realize the woman they are fucking around with has feelings for them. Suddenly, they’re devoted husbands who will never leave their wives. Sebastian will treat you the same. The moment he feels you have expectations of him is the moment he sobers up and wants nothing to do with you. That happens after you are intimate. He’s lonely and has been stuck in grief for over a year now, so he’s capable of anything.”
“Hence the reason he pulled this fake relationship idea out of his ass and dragged me into it.”
“Exactly. The Sebastian I know wouldn’t operate like that. Strong words and hostile threats would’ve been thrown around until you pulled back that auction idea, but for some reason, he’s decided to play silly games.” She sat up, “Don’t get me wrong; I’m all for fun and games with a hint of danger, wildly casual sex,and all that other good stuff. But he’s on another level, and I’m afraid these games will get one or both of you hurt.”
“I hear you. I tried to get out of it more than once,” I said.
“Just be careful. I’ll be here to listen to you bitch about all the annoyances this will most likely bring you, especially when Jake and Jim get here in two days. Then you get to deal with all those jackasses as well, God love them.”
“Oh, they’re coming?”
“Well, Ash and Avery wanted it to be a surprise, but I think we’re all worn out on cute little surprises,” she chuckled. “At least you have someone to vent it to if you wish. Just remember what I said and be careful. There are so many good men available for you to choose from.”
“That’s just the thing. I’m not looking to get into a relationship, and that’s the damn truth.”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetie,” she smirked. “Everyone wants to be in a relationship, but it’s got to be with the right person. People give up on love because finding a good person is challenging sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you should put yourself on a shelf. And sure, this is all easy for me to say now. Before Spencer came along, I was rock-solid in wanting never to get married. Now look at me.”
The relief of being able to unburden myself and confide in a friend came when I needed it most, and who better to talk to about this situation than Nat? She had made her way through all the upper-class circles, and she could see through bullshit immediately. Having a strong, intelligent woman on my side was what I needed to keep my head on straight, and I was determined to do just that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sebastian
“Hey,” I heard Darcy whisper, forcing my eyes to open. “Are you okay?”
I instantly sat up from where I’d been sleeping on the sofa. The moon peered into the room, but it was muted when Darcy switched on the end table lamp to investigate something I’d seemingly done to awaken her.
As I tried to gather my senses, I realized I was drenched in sweat. “Did I wake you?” I asked. “I’m sorry, but I’m fine. Apparently, I’m just pre-menopausal, and the hot flashes are starting in.”
I tried to laugh off the awkward position I found myself in on our first night sharing this room. How fucking embarrassing.
“Last I checked, menopause doesn’t make you holler for people in your sleep,” she said with a smile.
Something was off. I could see Darcy’s sympathetic expression, filled with concern.
“Was I calling for you?” I asked, wondering what’d happened because I couldn’t remember my dream if I’d even had one at all. However, if history were any indicator, I was most likely having that wretched recurring nightmare about the day Melissa died.
“No,” she smiled sweetly at me, “you were repeatedly calling out for your wife. I didn’t want to disturb you, but after a while, I thought I should because it sounded more and more like you were having a nightmare.”
“Jesus,” I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face, mortified and pissed that I didn’t consider the possibility of this happening in my sleep, “I’m truly sorry about that. I used to have these bad dreams every night, and then they stopped happening as much. It seems they were waiting until I shared a room with you to reemerge.”
“It’s nothing to apologize for,” she answered, kneeling alongside the sofa where she’d woken me up.
“I disagree,” I smiled at her, groggy and needing to jump in the shower to rinse all the sweat off my body. “I swear that, until she died, I never talked in my sleep. In fact, Melissa always teased me for my ability to lay my head on my pillow, fall asleep, and not move a muscle all night. Half the time, she didn’t know if I was still alive or not,” I turned and placed my feet on the ground, keeping the sheet and blanket over my lap since I was wearing only my boxers and didn’t want to give Darcy any more entertainment than she’d already had tonight. “I think I’ve just turned into some weird person who talks in their sleep now?”
“It’s normal, and you’re not weird,” she said. “It’s a trauma response, and it’s your subconscious way of getting through it. As you heal and more time passes, you’ll return to your usual sleep patterns.”
I smiled at her, “Did you learn this in one of your mom’s yoga sessions?”
“Yoga psychology,” she chuckled and stood up. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you were good. I’m going to head back to bed.”
“Sorry I woke you,” I answered, and as I watched her walking away, I suddenly felt uneasy about being alone. “I’m going to get in the shower,” I informed her. “I can use the outdoor one if you think the other will keep you up.”
“No, you’re fine,” she said, “so long as you don’t sing in the shower.”
“It’s what gets me through the trauma,” I chuckled and gathered my things to shower, hoping it would wash away my uneasy feelings.
After my shower, I decided a hot cup of tea sounded like a brilliant idea, so I headed to the kitchenette, filled the kettle with water, and placed it on the stove to boil. As I was preparing my cup and tea bag, the kettle began to whistleloudly,and even though I turned off the burner, it wouldn’t stop.
