Sebastian - Risking Forever: Vol 4 (The Forever Series): new adult college romance

by TARA GALLINA

  "Yes." She leans toward me, although it seems absentminded.

  Unable to resist, I touch a wavy strand of her hair. "This is the first thing I noticed about you when you tried to hit me with the door."

  She frowns. "It was an accident."

  "Are you sure you didn't do it on purpose?" I tease.

  "I didn't know you were there. How could I?"

  "Girls do interesting things to try to meet me." Truth. One girl cornered me in the men's bathroom on campus. I know Ainsley isn't like that but taunting her is so fun.

  Anger sparks in those green eyes. "Guys do interesting things too, like putting their arms around a girl who's only in her bra and not letting her go. Why did you do that?"

  I did not expect her to go there, and it's rare that I'm caught off guard. Acting out of character again—a new trend with her alone—I swallow deep in my throat and twirl that strand of hair around my finger as if to keep her in place. "Do you want the truth?"

  "Yes."

  Her quick response urges me on. "I didn't want anyone else to see you. I wanted you all to myself, and I wanted to know what you'd feel like in my arms. I didn't plan it any more than you planned to strip, but you did, and I reacted."

  "Oh," she whispers and either sways or shivers. "Aren't you engaged?"

  This time I can't ignore the question. "No."

  "But I heard Marina say you are."

  Of course, she did. It isn't her fault. I shouldn't be angry, but Marina is a bad topic. "While you were eavesdropping on us?" I untangle my finger from her hair and step back.

  "I wasn't eavesdropping. I was hiding because I was embarrassed. She was loud." She shrugs. "I overheard."

  My jaw tightens. "Did you overhear what I said?" Let's see if she remembers this.

  "You said … nothing is final. I think."

  I relax a little. "I did."

  "Okay." She nods but appears confused and then resolved to dropping it. "Can I assume you're hiring me?"

  "I don’t know." I glance away from her bright eyes and shake my head. "I shouldn't hire you." Another truth.

  "Why not?" Tears choke her voice.

  She's crying? I keep my gaze averted, certain if I look, I'll cave. "It wouldn't be a fair thing to do to you."

  "Because you don't think I can handle it." The hurt in her tone fuels my guilt.

  "Because you shouldn't have to." For a distraction, I get her water bottle from the couch where she left it and bring it to her.

  "Thanks." She takes it. "Is that a no?" Hurt, anger, and frustration mingle in her tone.

  I steal a glance at her, seeing the emotions mirrored in her eyes, and turn away. Fuck. I want to help her, but I don't want to cause her more pain. There's no guarantee she'd endure working for the body shop, but the chance of something happening by her association with me is real. Unless I prevent it, which I might be able to do. This sucks.

  She patters away from me, the sound of her shoes heading toward my desk. "Think about it and let me know. Please," she adds, her desperation like a fist around my throat.

  I turn my profile to her and glimpse what she's doing.

  She straightens from being hunched over the desk. "I want the job. I can start tomorrow. If you want to hire me, you have my number." She sets the pen on top of the notepad I keep on the desk and hurries down the stairs. The door closes with a quiet thud.

  Let her go and be done with her. She was a fun moment, a temporary distraction from my screwed-up life. A light in a tunnel of darkness. A sense of peace in a sea of rage.

  What am I, a fucking poet now?

  I scrub a hand through my hair and groan to the ceiling. I have defeated worse things than this. I can dismiss a girl I barely know. I will for her sake. She'll find a job, somewhere else, with someone safe. She'll be fine. Better off than she would be working for me.

  My gaze drifts from the stairs to the Macbook on the desk. The urge to stalk after her or stalk her on camera swells inside me. That's not what the cameras are for. I could check them to make sure nothing bad is going on. I do that whenever we have a party. Could I resist the temptation to find her? What if I catch her flirting with some guy?

  I'd beat his face in, that's what.

  Yeah. No camera watching tonight.

  I take my laptop to the couch and sit, resolved to getting work done for the body shop and post the scheduling position on another job-hunting site.

  It's for the best.

  Chapter 10

  My resistance isn't what it used to be.

  I pace the length of my office at the auto body shop. From the white leather couch at one end past two white swivel chairs that face my desk and then back.

  "Don't do it." Carlos enters the office, a red towel with grease stains slung over his shoulder.

  I stop by the coffee table in front of the couch and face him. "You heard the guys." I gesture in the direction of the shop. My office, two others, the storage room and the bathrooms make up the left half of the warehouse while the huge four-story high area with steel, roll-up garage doors dominates the right half. "They're not answering the phones anymore and to be honest I don't want them to. They're messing up the schedule, and the inventory hasn't been done in a month."

  "Sí, man. I understand. But an outsider? Not a good idea." He shakes his head and runs a hand over his round belly. Latin Santa is what the guys call him.

  "I know it's a bad idea, but it's the only one I have." Out of all the inquiries for the job, not a single applicant can do Excel. I don't have the time or patience to train anyone either. I know Ainsley can do it because her file from Eric said she took a class one summer on Word applications. "She's the only qualified applicant. Besides, I don't see this being long-term. She needs the money and will move on as soon as she finds something better." I'm sure of it.

  I stalk to my desk and sit in the big leather chair.

  Carlos stares out the large windows that overlook the enclosed parking lot. An electric fence topped with barbed wire surrounds the building and land. My uncle had it installed after a break-in by some locals. It wasn't an active business at the time. Just a place he used to have work done on his car collection.

  "If you don't have anyone else, then I don't know, man. Carajo. This is screwed up."

  "Yeah. It is. I'll keep her safe though."

  Carlos pins me with a concerned gaze. "See, that right there says you’re already too close to this chick. I don’t like it. But it's your call, and we do need someone to answer the damn phones before I lose my hair over the stress they're causing me." He sighs.

  "I don't want you stressed, Carlos. You're my guy. Without you, this place doesn't work. Let me take care of this. Don't worry about it anymore. Okay?"

  His dark eyes hold mine for a long moment, then his phone goes off with some Spanish song. He pulls it from his pocket. "It's the wife. I gotta take it."

  "Go." I wave for him to leave. "I got this."

  "Hola, Mommy?" He steps into the hallway and turns left, headed for his office.

  I pull up Ainsley's number that I entered in my phone after she left last Thursday night. It should have been a clue that I'd cave. No. Not caving, I'm desperate. Almost as desperate as she is, which has me thinking she might have a job already.

  The girl is persistent. The idea eases some of my tension. If she has a job, I won't have to stress about hiring her. Granted, I'll still be stressed about hiring someone, but I won't worry about her. In a way, fate will be the deciding factor here.

  I nod, satisfied with this thought process and send Ainsley a text.

  If you're interested in the job, call me back at this number.

  Now she has my cell. The ball is in her court, where it should be. I set down the phone and pull up invoices on my computer.

  When do I start?

  The text surprises me for two reasons. The first, she didn't find another job. The second, she texted instead of called like I told her to. Knowing her like I do, the second shouldn't have
been a surprise, neither should the smile tugging my lips at my inability to gauge her.

  If this were anyone else, I wouldn't bother responding. Ainsley is becoming a weakness of mine.

  I set my laptop on the cushion beside me and call her.

  "Hello?" she answers, slightly out of breath.

  My jaw clenches as obnoxious scenarios play out in my head. She texted because she's with a guy. "I'm afraid to ask what you're doing."

  "If you're implying what I think you are, you'd be wrong. What I'm doing is so much better," she says in a teasing tone. "It's called driving."

  Thank the damn Lord. I sigh with relief and then tense again at my reaction to her. When did she get so much control over my mood? "Kinky," I tease back to hide the concern in my voice. "Where to?"

  "A hot chick's house. It's nothing you'd be interested in. Did you call to give me the job details?"

  "Maybe. Or maybe I wanted to hear your voice—over the phone," I add, loving this playful banter between us.

  Her breath sounds through the phone like a sigh, stirring my excitement. "Is this another test?" she asks.

  "Yes. And you aced it."

  "Well, I've always been good at pop quizzes."

  Such a silly response, but I like it. "Can you start Monday?" I ask in a businesslike manner.

  "Yes. Of course. Should we meet to exchange what I need to work remotely?"

  "You can stop by the house to get a business phone and laptop." Both I need to acquire still, but she doesn't need to know that. "I'll have Nathan leave them out for you. I won't be there."

  "Oh?" Disappointment laces her tone, causing a strange sensation to curl in my chest. "Should I come another time to get the stuff so we can go over my duties?"

  "Duties," I repeat with a grin. "Cute word."

  She quiets with what sounds like a smothered groan. Her car engine revs.

  Is she angry? "My father is in town to see me," I explain. "I won't be at the house all week."

  "I thought he lived here," she says, a question in her tone.

  "He lives in multiple places. This is one of them, but when he's in town, I'm expected to be with him." My jaw tightens again. How much more time will he steal from me before I'm an official member with zero freedom?

  "Expected? Guess you weren't exaggerating when you said your dad makes my mom look like a kitten."

  "You have no idea." She also couldn't know how much it impresses me when she remembers what I say and repeats my words back to me.

  "Is there any chance you might enjoy yourself?" she asks, hinting hope.

  "None."

  "I wish I could make it better for you." Her sincere tone reaches deep inside me.

  "Why?"

  "Because I’m close to making it better for myself—mainly because of this job—and I wish I could do the same for you."

  My immediate response is to be suspicious, but this is Ainsley. She has no ulterior motive. She says what she thinks and means what she says. I admire her for it. "No one has ever said that to me before."

  "Can you sneak away from your dad for a little bit and take a break?"

  Still, she's trying to make things better for me. Why does she care at all? "If I could, I would."

  "If you need a partner in crime to help you escape, count me in," she offers in that playful tone. "We can use my Jetta as the getaway car. Your dad will never suspect it."

  "Or you," I add. "A cute little blonde behind the wheel with those big innocent eyes." Laughter trickles from me at the thought of her in her car outside the fortress wall surrounding my father's Italian-inspired estate.

  "Do you feel a little better at least?" she asks, warming me even more to her.

  "I do."

  "Me too." She sighs in a way that makes her seem giddy but also nervous. "Whatever goes on between you and your dad just remember how awesome you are and try not to let him bother you."

  "I'm awesome?" I'll never get use to her responses.

  "Hello? Have you met yourself? Hot, full-time student, successful business owner, friendly neighborhood job provider to the less fortunate. Need I go on?"

  As much as her compliments fill me with pride, one of them stands out more than the others. "You think I’m hot?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "You did. You opened with it," I inform her, unable to hide the smile in my voice.

  "Nu-uh," she squeaks, and I'd bet her cheeks are bright red. "I think you're hearing things. I would never hit on my boss."

  "Hmm. That's too bad," I tease as if let down.

  She quiets again, and a car horn blares through the phone.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. Fine," she says, sounding winded again. "I should probably go. Focus on the road."

  "Okay." I make my tone light, secretly delighted by her inability to drive because I unnerve her. "Send me your email when you get to the hot chick's house, and I'll send you the job details. Sound good?"

  "I will. And Sebastian?"

  My muscles tighten a bit. "Yeah?"

  "Thank you for hiring me."

  Damn. How many times can this girl floor me? "You're welcome." It takes me a moment to sever my contact from her and end the call.

  I lower the phone to the cushion beside me and let my head fall back on the couch with a sigh of my own. I'm getting way too wrapped up in this. Hiring her is bad enough, wanting a connection to her is disastrous. We are from entirely different worlds. Most people don't know a world like mine exists. She doesn't—not really—and it needs to stay that way. For her sake.

  I could bounce back from a fling with her. I'll have no choice. My initiation into the family will drag me down a dark hole that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to climb out of—that or I'll lose myself in it, permanently altered by the actions that will be required of me, never to resurface.

  Ainsley wouldn't want anything to do with me after that, and I wouldn't blame her. She doesn't seem like the kind of her girl who could handle a fling either. She's too caring and open.

  My phone dings with a text from said cute little blonde. It has her email address, another thank you, and a happy face emoji with its hands up by its cheeks, fingers spread.

  I can't help but laugh.

  Ha! That emoji is so you. I send to her.

  She replies, Because it's cute?

  If I answer yes, will I get a titty twister the next time I see you? Playing with fire, I remind myself and grab my laptop, so I can email her the job details I typed up after deciding to hire her.

  Thanks for the reminder. I still owe you one.

  She'll never make good on that threat. Aren't you driving? I text, remembering it's why she ended our call.

  I'm parked now.

  That was a fast trip.

  She doesn't live far. But I should go. My new boss is supposed to email my job details. I want to make sure there's no policy against office titty twisters.

  I crack up, my head going back with the loud laughter. Resist this? Impossible.

  I text her back. Other than reciprocation from the assaultee to the assaulter, there are no policies against it.

  Then I guess no titties will be getting twisted. She replies.

  That's a shame.

  If her little fingers ever touched my bare chest, my nipple no less, I'd either have to fight the urge to pull her to me or push her so far away she never dares to come near me again.

  Chapter 11

  I turn in my test on the professor's desk and exit the quiet classroom. Like always, I'm the first person to finish. Business classes aren't hard. If I had a choice, I would have studied engineering, the kind that focuses on the structure of bridges and skyscrapers.

  I shove open the doors and squint against the bright rays as I walk to my car. I'm on the other side of the campus today or else I'd look for Ainsley's car. I should have Eric get me her class schedule. If I ask her, she'll think I’m interested or prying. She wouldn't understand prying is second nature to me—a natural way
of life.

  Heat pounds the dark hair on top of my head. Four years of living here, and I still can't get over the lack of seasons and cool weather. It's spring for shit's sake. I unlock my car, and from the corner of my eye, glimpse someone moving at the rear bumper of my car.

  Ainsley? I turn.

  Nope.

  "Hey, Sebastian," says a girl decked-out like she's going to a party, even though it's the afternoon. "I'm Harper. Ainsley's friend."

  I thought she looked familiar, but I don't recognize her as Ainsley's friend at first. I see the new girl Nathan is fucking. She's been over a lot. I haven't asked her name, but Riley has mentioned it a few times while Nathan's been occupied with her.

  "Did you need something?" I ask, already knowing she wants to make small talk. I hate small talk, except with Ainsley. But only because I have no idea what she'll say or do.

  Her features fall like my response to her is upsetting. Then, she pushes back her shoulders, sending her big tits forward, and licks the corner of her mouth. Not as if the skin is dry, she's trying to be sexy. The move is old, and overused.

  "I … wanted to thank you for giving Ainsley a job. She's really sweet and even more desperate for money. You did her a huge favor." She saunters closer to me and runs her tongue along the ridge of her upper lip, like she's testing my reaction.

  I give her a bored expression, not believing for a second that she's here for Ainsley.

  Before I can respond, with who knows what, she leans her hip against the side of my car and says, "I hope it's okay that she told me. I'd hate to upset you in anyway."

  "What makes you think you could upset me?" I straighten and take a step back, folding my arms over my chest. This girl is good, probably has guys crawling on hands and knees to kiss her. The fact that she's fucking Nathan and hitting on me puts her even lower in my book, even if it isn't serious on his end. I should ask him, since I'm tempted to blow her off, like the dick I can be, but won't out of respect for him.

  She draws a circle on the blue paint of my car and glances at me with misty gray eyes. "If it were a secret, I mean. I know you're into those."