Touched By The Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 3)

“Back the fuck off,” Sebastian growls, and Heston raises his hands, even though his smile is all teeth. A chill runs down my spine at the sight of it. I’ve seen that look before. Pure evil.

“Relax, it was just a joke. I’m not going to touch your shiny new toy.” His eyes cut to me, causing a ripple of something wary to course through my muscles. “Although, for the record, I have been informed by certain qualified parties that my dick is bigger.”

I curl my lip in disdain. “Did she say your dick was bigger, or that you’re the bigger dick?”

If anything, it just makes him look more excited. “Ooh, and she’s a feisty one! Bravo.” He gives his brother a slow, sarcastic applause. “Bet you a Benjamin you’ve got scratch marks on your back right now. I’m right, aren’t I?” He laughs again.

I’m not entirely sure I get the source of what’s transpiring between them, but that asshole is way too happy, and when Sebastian swipes the plate from the counter, jerking his chin at the stairs, I can’t find any trace of the man I’d spent the night with. This guy standing here is completely checked out.

I follow him up, glancing back over my shoulder, where I catch Heston’s eye. He stares up at me, that same dark smile curving his lips and winks knowingly. My stomach turns. Not because I’m afraid of him, but because I realize that he knows more about what’s happening right now than I do.

We’re quiet.

Sebastian rustles around the room, packing his bag, and even though he’d fucked me last night—made love to me, if I were capable of such corniness—you wouldn’t know it by the way he’s acting.

“You don’t have to drive me. I can figure something out,” I say, smoothing down my skirt. I’d forced down two pancakes while Sebastian pretended nothing was wrong, even though he barely tried to sell it. “I can go alone.”

He adjusts the collar of his button-down, motions quick and mechanical. “I told you I would go with you. It’s not a big deal.”

It feels like a big deal. Every movement he’s made since we came up has been perfunctory, controlled, the opposite of his nature. “If you think you should stay with the kittens…”

He pauses then, going eerily still. “The kittens.” It’s a long, suspended moment before he breaks out of it, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’ll give Liesel a key to the room. She’ll look after them.”

Our eyes make contact in the mirror over his dresser and I can’t hold it in anymore. “Did I… did I do something wrong?”

Did the sex not live up to his expectations? I thought he enjoyed it as much as I did. It sure fucking seemed like it. I thought I’d gotten to know Sebastian and his rolling tide of emotions pretty well, but seeing him now…

I have no fucking idea what’s going on.

I just know the way it makes me feel, like I might be sick.

A line creases between his eyes and he says, “Of course not. You know my brother sets me on edge. Let’s just go do this thing and get on with it.”

I do know that Heston really bothers him, and it sounds like he didn’t expect him to be here. I cross the room and rest a hand on his back before reluctantly sliding it around his waist—a move that even days ago would have pleased him to no end. But now, when I look into his eyes, I can’t find the teasing heat that resides there. There’s just a blank stare. “I know you didn’t want me and Heston to meet. I get that—”

“No,” he says, stepping away, “you don’t.” He checks the time. “We need to go if we’re going to be there on time.”

I exhale, not wanting to leave it like this. But he’s right. “Doug will flip if I’m late.”

He grabs his coat and hands me mine, arm extended. “Then let’s get out of here. Get this over with.”

Sebastian walks out of the room, leaving me behind. I glance over at the bed, still rumpled from the night before. A small piece of the condom wrapper sits on the floor next to the trash can. Just seeing it creates a ball of tension in my stomach.

The words, ‘Let’s get this over with,’ echo in my ears, as though once we’re finished with this day, everything is over.

27

Sebastian

On the ride to the Briar Cliffs, I do all the shit.

I count to ten. I breathe. I count to twenty. I breathe some more. I count to fucking one hundred, and the breathing isn’t fucking helping.

I eventually turn on the radio, trying to find something to focus on that isn’t this scorching fucking rage simmering just inside my chest. He’s right, is the problem. I do need it. I need someone I can build up in my head to be Heston. Someone I can beat the shit out of. It’s just so goddamn hard to shake it off. This thing—this toxic fucking hatred for him—clings to me like a leech.

He threatened my girl.

Maybe she didn’t hear it in all his bullshit yapping, but I did. I heard it clear as fucking day.