Stealing Home: A Reverse Grumpy-Sunshine College Sports Romance: Chapter 10

I JERK BACK—AND find myself looking into Sebastian’s gem-green eyes.

He glances down, his lip curling with disgust as he takes in the position of the dude’s hand. He moves between us, picks up his hand, removes it from my thigh, and pats his arm consolingly. “Thanks for keeping my girl company, man.”

I scowl, hoping he hears the venom in every single syllable as I talk. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The guy puts up his hands, unsure whether to focus on me or Sebastian. He wets his lips—then throws me an accusing look.

Sebastian has a stony expression on his face, as if he actually just discovered some guy two seconds away from feeling up his girl. I wish I could kick him. From this angle, if I tried, I’d just fall off the bar stool. Indignation rushes through me like wildfire. How he get in the middle of this.

“I didn’t know she belonged to someone. I swear.”

Sebastian tilts his head to the side. “Interesting. Does that make women property?”

“What? No, I just—”

“She’s her own person.” He shrugs, still casual, although something dark simmers in his gaze, like he wishes he could slam the guy’s head against the bar top. “So maybe consider that the next time you open your miserable fucking mouth.”

“I swear I didn’t know. She’s the one who came on to me.” He gestures to me, any lingering interest in his expression drying up in favor of a snarl. “If I were you, I’d be more worried about your slut of a—”

Sebastian tosses a twenty on the bar top. “Get out.”

“I’m not—”

“Goodbye.” He jerks his head in the direction of the door. “Go get your pathetic dick sucked somewhere else.”

The guy looks around, but everyone is studiously ignoring us. Even the bartender is letting the situation roll, at least for the time being.

“You can’t just kick me out,” he protests. “This is bullshit.”

“Sure I can.” Sebastian leans in, close enough I can smell his cologne. He flexes slightly, showing off that tightly corded strength that’s easy to forget about, when it comes to him. “You can leave on your own or I can make it hurt first, your pick.”

The guy scrambles off the stool and out of the bar.

As soon as he’s gone, I whirl on Sebastian. “What the fuck was that?”

“What the fuck was ?” He laughs incredulously. “What were you doing, Mia?”

“It’s none of your business.”

His mouth twists. “I can’t believe this was your big solution.”

I take a step closer. In these heels, we’re nearly the same height, but he still has an inch on me. And enough muscle to throw me around, a fact my body remembers all too eagerly. “What solution, Sebastian? Be specific.”

“Let’s see,” he says, holding out his hand, ticking off the reasons with his fingers as he talks. His voice is quiet enough no one can hear but me, but the force of it comes through loud and clear. “The university emailed two hours ago to say on-campus housing is scrambling to rearrange things after a flood in one of the dorms open for summer students. If you had somewhere to stay, you’d be moving in your things, not here. You’re drinking a beer, but you prefer bourbon. You’re wearing a pink dress, and you hate pink. You were flirting with a total loser, letting him touch you when you don’t like being touched by strangers.” He cocks his head to the side. “Want me to keep going?”

I can feel the blush coloring my cheeks, but I keep my head high. “That’s not what that was.”

“You don’t want to crash with me, fine, but call Penny’s dad, then. Don’t fuck a stranger for the privilege of a bed.”

“Maybe I just liked him.”

He laughs shortly. “I know what you like, sweetheart, and that’s not it.”

I cross my arms over my chest. I’m not a crier, but I can feel emotion winding through me, the result of a day full of stress, and need to swallow. “You have idea what I like anymore.”

He throws another twenty onto the bar. Another reminder of that special privilege that comes from being a Callahan: wealth. The family is loaded, and Sebastian and his siblings all have trust funds. I, meanwhile, have a careful amount of money stashed away, and I’m planning to touch it as little as possible this summer.

“Come on,” he says. “We’re going home.”

He reaches for my elbow, but I jerk away. “I’m fine. I have somewhere I can go.”

“We’re friends.” Hurt flashes across his face, a bolt of lightning ahead of a summer storm. “Don’t lie to me.”

Erin. She’ll let me spend the night. “I’m not.”

“I’m not letting you sleep in your goddamn car.”

“Let me? You’re not my father.” I snort. “You’re not my fucking boyfriend, either.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. He just shakes his head, calm as always. “We’ll talk about this at the house.”

“No.”

“Outside the bar, then.”

I glance around. His baseball buddies sprawl across two of the red leather booths, laughing, beers in hand. They must have come in while I was focusing on my maybe-hookup, and Sebastian saw what was going on. “What, afraid they’ll overhear?”

His expression softens slightly. “I won’t make your business everyone’s business. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

I let him lead me outside.

He leans against the brick wall outside the bar, concern radiating from him like a beacon. I dig in my purse for my phone. One night with Erin, and then maybe I’ll work up the courage to ask Penny if she can talk to her dad. It’s not that I don’t like her father, he’s a nice guy—I just didn’t want to impose, to assume to be close enough to Penny to ask for that kind of favor. She’s the first true friend I’ve had in years, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that.

“Come to the house with me,” Sebastian says. “No one needs to know unless you want them to. You can sleep in Izzy’s pink monstrosity of a bedroom, and I won’t bother you, I promise. I have a game tomorrow, so I’ll be up and out early.”

I became casual friends with Izzy over the past semester, and I’ve been in her bedroom before. Her bed is ridiculously comfortable, albeit very pink. I barely slept the night before, in that stupid, sticky dorm room, and the thought of conking out amid all those silk throw pillows is more than a little tempting.

If not for the fact that Sebastian’s bedroom is next door.

“I can’t pay you anything for it,” I say.

“I don’t want your money.”

I shake my head. “And I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

“Wouldn’t be taking advantage.” He leans in, and by the way he raises his hand before stuffing it into his pocket, I’d bet that twenty he just left on the bar that part of him wants to pull me into a hug. I’d almost managed to forget about his propensity for physical touch. I ought to scramble away, to safety, but I can’t bring myself to move. He’s close enough that I can feel his breath on my ear. “But if it makes you feel better, you wouldn’t stay for free. I’d need you to tell me something.”

I will my voice to become steel. “Tell you what?”

He pulls back far enough that our gazes meet. I wonder if he has this same intensity on his face when he’s in the batter’s box. The sun has slipped below the horizon, so his face is half-bathed in the streetlamp’s light, one eye dark, the other illuminated. He’s achingly handsome. Practically golden. My heart thrums from his nearness. My body clenches traitorously, sending heat to places that are all too hard to ignore.

“Why you said you’d go on a date with me, then stood me up.”