Take Me Again (The Knight Brothers 1)

Ignoring his cock, which had definitely taken notice, he cleared his throat. “Ashley.”

She froze in the doorway and turned, eyebrows raised as she waited to hear what he had to say.

“This is ridiculous. You, me, this cold war we’ve got going on.” He extended a hand in peace. “What do you say?” He braced himself, ready for the slide of her hand against his skin.

But she ignored the gesture, her eyes frosty, and despite her rebuffing him, he found something sexy about the cool blue stare.

“There’s no cold war, Sebastian. I just have nothing to say to you.” She drew back her shoulders, the dress pulling tighter over her breasts.

“Are you really holding a grudge over something we both played a role in?” He didn’t add that she’d initiated the encounter, that she’d come on to him. He didn’t think she’d appreciate the reminder.

A slow smile spread across her glossed lips. “You think that’s why I have no desire to engage in small talk? Or have any kind of relationship? No. That’s not it.” She shook her head. “I can take responsibility for my role in what happened between us. I’m well aware I started things.”

“Then–”

She stepped closer, her scent pervading his senses, going right to his dick.

“I was there, Sebastian. I heard what you said to your father in his study. You were the one thing that stood between me being completely cut off from the world I knew. You were eighteen and you didn’t step up and say, hey, I’ll behave. Keep Ashley home. So if you’re wondering why I have no use for you, now you know.”

He blinked in surprise, her words coming out like a verbal slap. Jesus. All these years, and he’d had no idea she’d been outside that room. Shame filled him as it always did when he remembered that time. In the moment, he hadn’t believed his dad would ship Ashley abroad. And when he’d realized his father had been serious about boarding school, he’d gone to the man’s study to ask him to change his mind. “Too late, son. Money paid. Nonrefundable. It’s a done deal.”

“I was young and I fucked up,” Sebastian admitted out loud to her, wanting her to know he understood.

She narrowed her gaze. “You sure did. And now I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.”

He did his best not to wince or react to her barbed words, instead trying one more time to get past her walls. “It’s been eight years,” he reminded her. “I’m not the same man I was then.”

She raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? From what I understand, your habits regarding women and booze haven’t changed much. And frankly, I don’t care. I’m just here for Ethan.”

He hated the fact that her words had merit, that Ethan had probably clued her in to his partying ways.

He shook his head, knowing there was no way she’d soften. So he opted for the question still nagging at him. “Just what is your relationship with my brother?” he asked.

“He’s been my rock,” she said simply. “He kept in touch after I was sent away. He made sure I had a semblance of family. Someone to care when I had a birthday or at Christmas.”

Jesus, Sebastian thought. And he’d had no fucking clue. Worse, he hadn’t given those things a thought.

“So if coming home to help him means I have to deal with you, so be it,” Ashley said, unaware of the turmoil rushing through him. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d make it easy for me and keep your distance.” And on that statement, she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder, a clear dismissal, as she walked past him, head held high.

Fuck.

Even after all this time, she had every right to be pissed at him.

The truth ate away at him until he couldn’t focus or sit still in his seat. The appointment he had at three came at an opportune time. He told his secretary he was leaving and headed out of the office, then stopped to pick up Chinese before going home with takeout loaded in a paper bag. The whiskey from the night of the funeral was waiting for him, too.

He ate.

He drank.

He felt like shit, his family’s unwillingness to take him seriously, to include him in the important parts of their life, wrecking him. And Ashley’s anger, over eight years old but legitimate, twisted in his gut.

He took a healthy sip from the tumbler, forced to look deep and acknowledging at last, in his heart, their characterization of him had merit, no matter that he’d had his reasons.

His mother had died just as he was finishing middle school and entering high school, and they’d been close. He’d confided in her, had fun with her, loved her. Watching her grow frail as cancer ate away at her devastated him. And the fact that his father was never around, that he’d never bothered to hide his affairs – he smelled of perfume when he came home, if he came home at all—made Sebastian angry at the world.