Rewrite the Stars - Page 42

“You’re not my responsibility, remember?” he says, throwing my words back at me.

“I just thought—”

“You just thought, what?” Sebastian cuts me off. “That we’d braid each other’s hair and have pillow fights every night?”

I thought it’d be different. I thought it’d be more glamorous and exciting and less…lonely. “Never mind.”

“Spit it out.”

“Fuck off.” I’m not about to tell him anything. Not when he’s in asshole mode.

“Tell you what. You come to the show tonight and I’ll make time for you afterward.”

“Who says I want any of your time?”

He shoots me a look. “If this isn’t a cry for attention, what is?”

“So full of yourself.”

“Am I wrong?” When I don’t answer right away, he says, “Thought so. See you there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Knowing he’s not going to get more of a commitment than that, he walks back out the door.

I pace the floor, stalling until the very last minute, knowing I can’t resist all the while. Sebastian doesn’t spare me so much as a glance all week long, and I’m supposed to fall in line whenever he decides I’m worthy? What’s with the sudden shift in behavior? If I’m going to cave and make myself look like a doormat, I might as well make him wonder a little first. Besides, I’ve watched Sebastian, Eros, Tres, and Lathan in that cage from afar almost every night and I never get tired of it. Getting a front row view isn’t exactly a punishment.

I slip in right as the show kicks off, taking the only empty seat in the first row. Sebastian’s eyes lock onto mine as the announcer, Roy’s brother Randy, launches into his usual spiel about centrifugal force and defying gravity. I don’t hear a word of it, though, because the way Sebastian’s looking at me is different than before. Or maybe it’s just that he hasn’t actually looked at me at all lately and I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be held under his gaze. I fight the urge to shift, unnerved by the way he’s making me feel.

He pulls his helmet onto his head, and then they’re off, whirling around each other like opposing magnets that won’t allow the other to get too close. Up and down, side to side, crisscrossing paths. The crowd is completely enthralled, and I’m no different, even having seen this very stunt a handful of times before.

When the show comes to an end, I stay put, knowing the aftermath always takes a while. They roll out of the metal cage one by one before removing their helmets and taking a bow while the audience applauds. Eros tosses me a wink, but I’m otherwise invisible. Again. I don’t know what Sebastian has in mind tonight, but I’m curious to find out.

After nearly forty minutes of signing photos, posing for pictures, and making general small talk with a group of stragglers, Sebastian breaks away from them and jerks his head for me to meet him out back of the black and white striped tent.

“You came.”

I pull a face. “Did you ever doubt I would?”

“No.”

That’s what I figured.

“You kept up your end of the bargain. I’ll keep mine.”

“So, what’s on the itinerary?” I ask, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

He lifts a shoulder. “Urban exploring,” he says with finger quotes. “Your favorite, if I remember correctly. They want to go check out this haunted hotel.” He must sense my disappointment in my lackluster response, because he says, “Unless you have something else in mind?”

I bite my bottom lip, angling my body toward the Ferris wheel glittering in the distance. “I still haven’t gone up there.”

“No?” He sounds shocked.

“I haven’t been on any of the rides, actually.” Not a one. And not just here. I haven’t so much as ridden a kiddie coaster in my whole life.

His eyebrows tug together as he considers this. “Then it’s settled.”

An hour later, the boys are gone, and a freshly-showered Sebastian emerges from the bathroom. He had the foresight to bring his pants with him to change into, but he’s not wearing a shirt. He ducks his head and slides a palm through his inky, wet hair, shaking the water out, and I take the opportunity to get an unfettered look. His body is lean, but strong. His face is beautiful, but lethal. He brings the towel in his other hand up to dry his chest before tossing it onto the bathroom floor behind him.

Tags: Charleigh Rose Romance
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