Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

MEGHAN

I feel the mattress dip as Sebastian climbs into bed beside me.

We took our time untangling our bodies after we finished. The sex. The sex where Sebastian said HE FUCKING LOVED ME!

I’m trying really hard not to lose my mind. But I’m not being very successful. When we finally climbed off the bed, I quickly commandeered the master bathroom to clean up. The dim lighting helped me to avoid eye contact as I shuffled away from the bed.

He didn’t say anything else after that, and neither did I. Maybe he thinks I didn’t hear him. Maybe it was just one of those things you say during a passionate round of lovemaking. Maybe he regrets it. Maybe he means it. Oh my god I have no idea what to think!

So, I did what any adult would do. I peeked out to make sure the bedroom was still empty, then hurried to the bed and pretended to be asleep before Sebastian returned from the bathroom down the hall.

I’d found a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt hanging off a towel rack while I was freaking out in the bathroom, so I tugged them before my sprint to the bed. It’s not actual armor, but I feel a little less vulnerable with the layer of clothing. Now here I lay, curled up on my side, back to the door, my eyes shut, holding still.

He seems to be buying it, since I can feel him moving pillows around but he hasn’t said anything to me. Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I pray to The Sandman to sprinkle Sebastian with his dust so he’ll just lie down and go the hell to sleep.

In my rushed effort to look comfy, the blanket got tangled up so my bare feet are exposed to the cool air. I want to adjust them, but I don’t dare.

Sebastian moves again, and it feels like he’s right behind me. I’m prepared for him to become my big spoon, but instead he reaches over and gently tugs on the blanket until it covers my cold feet.

Just when I think my heart can’t take any more, he kisses the back of head and murmurs something that sounds a lot like sweet dreams, Baby.

I’m officially losing it, but my whore of a honey badger just pulled up a chair to her writing desk and is readying her quill to sign wedding invites.

I continue to hold still and do my best to keep my breathing steady. I wait for him to drape an arm over me, but he rolls away. I can still feel his warmth. Maybe the psycho is a back sleeper; at this point, nothing should surprise me anymore.

I’m not sure how long it’s been, but I’m positive that Sebastian’s asleep. He hasn’t moved, and he’s snoring softly.

I channel my inner Catwoman and slip out of the bed as smoothly as possible. I watch Sebastian for a moment to make sure I didn’t wake him. He’s flat on his back, with his arms crossed over his chest. The small amount of moonlight coming through the gap in the curtains gives him a macabre appearance. He looks like a sexy olive-skinned vampire. And I don’t dare wake him.

Carefully, I tiptoe all the way to the stairs. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, I glance to the kitchen. Part of me is tempted to search for some booze, but I know that’s the last thing I need right now. I need to attempt to think clearly.

Instead, I pad into the living room and start to pace. There’s still one lamp on in the corner, and it sets the perfect mood for how I feel right now.

I want to call the girls. I need someone to talk me off the ledge. But a glance at the clock tells me it’s 2:00 am. It’s Katelyn’s wedding night, and - even if I got Izzy on the phone - all she’d do is swoon.

I don’t even know why I’m so stressed right now. Sebastian falling in love with me is at the top of my wish list. Written in bold. And underlined. But maybe that’s it. It’s the thing I want most in the world. And I want him to have meant it. I want it so bad that it’s making me crazy. Because what if he didn’t? What if it was a slip of the tongue? A turn of phrase? Something he says to all the girls?

I can’t just pretend I didn’t hear him. I can’t live like that. I know myself well enough to know that. I’ll end up asking him about it. And if I ask him, and he apologies, or back peddles, or does whatever people do to take back an I love you, I think I might crumble.

My heart can’t take any more ups and downs. I pretended to be okay with casual, but that was the biggest steaming pile of lies I’ve ever sold in my life. I don’t want to be casual. I want to be serious. Because I feel serious. I feel seriously in love with Sebastian. And if he doesn’t feel at least a little of what I feel, then I’ll need… a therapist. I’m going to need a fucking therapist.

I reach the bookshelf on the far end of the room and start to turn, to pace the other way, when a framed photo catches my eye.

Picking it up, I bring it closer to the lamp.

It’s a heavy silver frame holding a photo of four people. In the middle are Sebastian and Samuel. The twins. They’re smiling, and have their arms slung around each other. Next to Samuel is a slightly shorter man, who shares the same coloring as the brothers. This must be Curtis, the older LeBlanc boy. My eyes trail over to the woman next to Sebastian, and my brain feels like it’s glitching as I blink at the picture.

A beautiful woman, with sleek dark hair, cut into a bob, is grinning at the camera. A woman that I know. A woman I’ve gotten drunk with. A woman I discussed my man troubles with. A woman named Annabelle, who conveniently never told me her last name. Sebastian’s little sister, Anna LeBlanc.

My mouth suddenly feels dry.

I set the frame on the side table and back away.

What the fuck?

Seriously. What. In. The. Actual. Fuck.

Annabelle is Sebastian’s sister? Does he know that we met?

I want to slap myself. Duh, of fucking course he knows! He called me when I was at the bar with Annabelle. Anna. Her name is Anna. Fuck! He asked to talk to my friend, and I didn’t think anything of it. If he didn’t know before, he sure as fuck knew then. And he didn’t say anything. Not a fucking word.

Did Sebastian tell Anna to use me for her event? I mean, the event was real, I was there. But did she fire her planner just to use me, or was it really an emergency and she - for whatever reason - didn’t want to tell me who she was?

But why?

I remember my conversation with her. How I told her all about this guy I was falling for. How I felt about him and how I thought he felt about me.

My shoulders slump and I shake my head.

Samuel.

Samuel came and picked us up that night. And he didn’t say anything either. Not a word. And what’s worse is that he made a point to pretend that he and Anna were just friends. He made a point to keep it a secret. Just like Sebastian.

Sebastian.

My throat constricts.

I know I was drunk that night, but I remember our conversation. I remember thinking that he sounded concerned. That he sounded like he wanted to see me. But then he sent his brother to pick us up and he must have told Samuel to keep his mouth shut. To keep the secret.

But to what end? Was it all one big trick? Some fucked up game?

What I feel when I’m with Sebastian doesn’t feel like a game. But… then why?

The harder I think about it, the more it makes my head hurt. And my heart hurt.

All I know for certain is that I need to get the hell out of here. Whatever this is, I don’t have the headspace to deal with it right now. I’m already in too deep with Sebastian. The thought of him being a liar is too much. And I don’t know where to go from here. Other than home.