Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

SEBASTIAN

I blink my eyes open, and memories from last night swirl through me. I’m not fully awake yet, but my cock sure is.

My lips pull into a small smile. Banshee is going to be the fucking death of me. Every time we fuck seems better than the last, and that’s a theory I’m ready to test right now.

Only I roll onto my side and find an empty expanse of bed. I roll the other way, also empty. I glance around the room. The bathroom door’s open, so she’s not in there, and the clock says it’s after 7:00. I sit up enough to look at the floor. Her dress and my clothes from last night are still in a pile, so I flop back down onto the bed. She’s probably in the kitchen making coffee or baking something amazing.

It’s my day off, and all I want to do is bury my dick in Banshee and then fall back asleep. But the thought of finally tasting one of her baked creations gets me climbing out of bed.

At the top of the stairs, I pause. The house is quiet. Too quiet. And I don’t smell coffee or anything else that might signal breakfast.

I start to get a bad feeling as I descend the stairs.

Empty. I don’t need to search to know that the house is empty.

When did she leave? And what did she wear home, my pajamas?

I scrub my hands over my face. Why the fuck would she just up and leave? I thought we had an amazing time last night.

Then it hits me.

She heard me. She pretended not to, but she heard me when I confessed that I love her.

Goddamnit.

I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. But that doesn’t make it untrue.

I wanted to talk to her about it after, get it all out in the open, but she was already asleep when I came to bed.

Double goddamnit.

I’m an idiot. She wasn’t asleep. That little faker. She was avoiding me and waiting to bail.

But that doesn’t make sense. I know her. I know her moods and her looks. I know she feels something for me. Maybe it’s not love, not yet, but I can’t believe that hearing me say it would send her running.

So, what now? How do I address this?

The morning sun breaks through the clouds and a beam of light reflects off something on one of the end tables, catching my attention. I walk over to see what it is, and stop dead in my tracks.

Fuck.

Fucking Fuck!

She knows.

This is bad. This is worse than saying I love you. Sure, that was a little off brand for me, but this…

This is a really fucking bad.

“Fuck!” I shout it out loud, hoping it will make me feel better. It doesn’t.

I sprint up the stairs to my phone.

I need to talk to her. I need to clear this up. She blew me off for three months over some misplaced guilt after that bar fight. I can’t imagine the sort of ice-out she’ll give me over this level of deception.

I dial her number.

“Come on, Banshee, pick up.” It rings several times, then goes to voicemail. “Banshee. Call me. Please.” I hang up.

I stand in place, staring at my bed. That was the wrong thing to say. I need to explain myself. She’s not going to just call me.

I call her again. It rings once before it goes to voicemail. Fuck, she’s already screening my calls.

“Meghan. Baby. I know this probably looks bad. I get that. But please talk to me. My stupid sister reached out to you all on her own.” I heave out a breath. “Yes, I figured it out that night when you guys were drinking, but that wasn’t the time to tell you. I know… I fucking know I should’ve told you at some point since then. I know that. I’m so sorry. I chewed her out the next day, not that it even mattered. She wouldn’t shut up about how awesome you were. But that’s not the point, she shouldn’t have…”

The voicemail beeps and ends, cutting me off.

“Damnit.”

I dial again. Not surprised when she sends me right to voicemail again.

“Hey, okay, I’ll talk faster. My sister’s a moron for what she did, but I’m worse for not telling you. I should have. I planned to. Today actually. But you’re not here. Please let me explain. Just don’t cut me out of your life again. That’s not… That’s not what I want. That’s not what I want for us.” I pause for half a second and decide to go for it. “And as far as what I said last night, I don’t regret it. You’re mine, Baby. You got that? Mine. You can run and force me to chase, or you can just let me catch you. Your choice. But I will get you. Because you're my Banshee.”