Saving Us by Wendy Million

Chapter Ten

While we made our way to the bar, I asked, “Is Johnny always like that?”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows and glanced back at the table. “Moody?”

“I was going to say assholeish, but I guess moody works too.”

Sebastian laughed. “When something rattles him, he has a difficult time letting it go. Then, he gets moody.”

“He has a temper too, right?” I slid onto a stool at the bar to wait for the bartender, but Sebastian stayed standing beside me.

“He does, yeah. We all do.”

“I’m sure not all of you grab a girl’s wrist hard enough to bruise it.” I gave Sebastian a pointed look.

He frowned. “You were there. You saw what happened. He felt bad. Said he couldn’t understand how he left a mark on her.”

The bartender came over, and we ordered our drinks. Sebastian’s words floated through my head while we waited.“You think it was an accident?” I drew my pint toward me when it arrived. Surprise coated Sebastian’s face when I glanced over my shoulder.

“Yeah, it was an accident. Johnny’s not that kind of guy.” He grabbed his glass off the bar. “Even if he was, and he’s not, but even if he was, he’d be a fool to lay a hand on any woman this year with the draft so close. You can’t play if you’re in prison.” He stared at me for a long moment. “He’s not dumb.”

Johnny’s level of intelligence wasn’t my concern. “Annika likes him, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.” All the ways I was worried Johnny could injure her hung between us.

“If it makes you feel any better, this is the most time I’ve seen him spend with anyone since I got here three months ago. The guys were giving him a hard time in the locker room the other day, and he took it.” He slid into the seat beside me.

Apparently, we were both getting comfortable here. I understood why I didn’t want to go back. With raised eyebrows, I took a drink, my question implied.

“I don’t wanna go back over there,” he said. “We should hang out, the two of us, for a bit.” Over the rim of his beer, he sized me up. “What’s your last name, Natalie?”

“Chapman.” I shifted on my stool to face him. “I already know yours.”

“The myth, the legend.” He grinned.

“The bird!” I concluded with a laugh. “You know, like Superman?”

Sebastian laughed and shook his head, taking a drink of his beer. “That was rough.”

I relaxed into our easy banter. “How old were you when you moved stateside?” I leaned one arm on the smooth wood surface in front of us and the other ran across the high-backed stool.

“Thirteen. My mom’s American.” Sebastian smiled. “My dad’s Bermudian.”

“They’re still together?” He’d called Bermuda home.

“No. They divorced when I was thirteen, which was part of the reason for the move. My mom wanted to come back, and I was into American football. It’s not big on de rock, so it made sense for me to move with her. I go back to Bermuda to visit my dad pretty often.”

“Why’d they split?”

He grimaced. “Monogamy is hard?”

“Is that your motto or theirs?”

He slung his arm over his chair, mirroring my posture. “I’ve never tried it, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Never?” My stomach dropped at the confession.

He pursed his lips. “Never.”

I swiveled away from him and took a bigger drink of my beer. “I guess that makes my wing-woman job easier. No need to worry about complications from past girlfriends.” My tone was light, but his admission was crushing. Whatever was building between us had zero chance of becoming anything more than this. Flirtation. Casual sex if I was willing.

“No girlfriends.” He shifted forward too. “But lots of—”

“Girls?” Our elbows were so close they were almost touching. “Don’t worry.” I leaned toward him, mocking a whisper. “I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

He grinned and closed the distance a little more. “What’s that?”

“You’re afraid of commitment.” I put the space back between us and took another drink.

An air of confidence wafted off him, and he straightened in his chair. “I’m not afraid of commitment, Nattie. It’s a subtle difference for an over-committer like you, but I haven’t found anyone worth committing to.”

I scoffed. “An over-committer? Is that even a word?”

He held the beer on the edge of his lips, and the hint of a smile I loved so much played at the corners of his mouth. “It’s you. You didn’t bother to deny it; you just didn’t like my word choice.”

“Because it’s not a word.” He might be right. I did enjoy commitment in my relationships. Clay had been too much, but I’d have the opposite problem with Sebastian. There’d never be enough with him. I’d probably always want more than he could give. This conversation was a good reminder of that truth.

Could I slip out my phone and record him to play to myself in my moments of weakness? That’d be normal, right?

“So.” I sat back and searched the pub. “Any prospects?”

“Nah, we can’t start tonight. You don’t have your outfit yet.” His eyes danced as he gave me the once-over. “Do I get to pick what you wear as my wing-woman or…?” He raised his eyebrows.

I almost spit out my beer. “No, you don’t get to pick what I wear. Please. The day I let a guy do that is the day pigs sprout wings and fly.”

“So, what I’m hearing here is that if I can somehow find pigs, give them wings, and make them fly, I get to pick what you wear?”

I shook my head and laughed. “This is not some sort of challenge for you to find a way to make it happen.”

“That’s what I’m hearing, Nattie. Pigs flying equals Natalie Chapman wearing whatever I want.”

I cocked my head. “What would you even dress me in? Come on.”

He pursed his lips and stared at me for a beat too long. With a sigh, he took his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his photos before passing me his device. “That.” A cocky grin replaced his easygoing expression.

Red leather, tight fitting, and skimpy as hell with a tiny cape. “You can’t be serious.” Disbelief oozed out of my voice. “I’d look terrible in that.”

“You’d look hot in that. I’d be beating guys off my wing-woman.” He cocked his elbows as though he was fending off a crowd.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“This is true. You don’t want to know how much time I’ve spent considering this. I normally only think about football this much.” He lowered his elbows.

I went to scroll to the next photo, and he snatched his phone back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You do not have scrolling privileges.” He clicked it closed and winked. “I’ll save the other pictures for later. That was the best one, anyway.”

“I thought you texted me the best ones.”

“No way.” Sebastian chuckled. “I sent you the ones that wouldn’t scare you off seeing me again.”

“How many photos of half-naked girls in capes do you have on your phone?” I pretended to try to steal it back.

“No comment.” He blocked my hand, and once again the glass was poised at his lips and that smile touched them before he took another drink. “Seriously, Nattie, if you’re going to be my wing-woman, you need an outfit. I insist.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be your wing-woman anymore.”

He cocked his head to the side and looked at me. “That works better for me, anyway.”

“What? You’re firing me?” I feigned incredulity.

“You quit, actually. Shame. I had big plans for you, Nattie. You were going places.”

“Nah, I was just supposed to convince other girls to go to those places.” I grinned.

He choked on his beer and started laughing. Once he got himself together, he stared at me for a moment while I drank my beer in silence. “I’ve never had to work this hard for a girl before.”

“How’s it feel?”

“Strange, but I’m getting used to it.” His gaze raked over me. “I kinda like having you around, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad you turned me down.”

“You’re giving up?” I held out my hand to shake on it. My heart rate spiked. Blood rushed to my head. “Just friends?”

He chuckled and held his hands up to avoid my offer. “Not a chance. I’m basking in the chase.” He relaxed into his stool, elbow on the bar.

Troy approached us from behind. “Seb, we’re heading out. You coming, man?”

“Where are we going?” Sebastian leaned over the back of the chair to give Troy his undivided attention.

“Home, dude. We have practice in the morning and Johnny’s on a mission after he and Annika dissected tonight’s practice about five times. That girl, man. He’s so whipped.”

Sebastian grinned and glanced at me as if to say he’d told me so.

“All right, I’m coming. I’m going to finish my beer.” Sebastian raised his almost empty pint and took the last of the beer in big gulps. He slid his glass along the polished wood. “Until we meet again, Nattie.”

He trailed Troy out of the bar. Annika came up behind me, keys in hand.

“Ready to go?” Her gaze tracked Johnny’s as he left, a frown creasing her brow.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, Johnny’s so hard on himself all the time. It can’t be good for him.” She gave her head a shake.

Johnny and his happiness weren’t her responsibility. We were back on even ground, so I held my tongue. Other than Johnny’s shitty attitude toward me and Sebastian, he’d been attentive to Annika, affectionate. Maybe the other night had been a fluke, a mistake.

I slung my arm around her shoulders and said, “Let’s go home.”