Very Twisted Things (Briarwood Academy 3)

“I drove here. I can drive home,” I snapped.

He tried to argue, but I ignored him until he gave up.

They walked out the door. Beautiful stars going out to follow their dreams.

Once, I’d been a star, too, with my music, but I’d allowed the darkness to swallow me up.

Phil swept into the room and tossed my violin case at my feet. “You’re fired,” he snarled and showed me the door.

I gasped and ran to the case and opened it, running my hands over the strings, checking for injury. I let out a sigh. Thankfully, everything seemed fine.

My heart was another story.

“I’d helped my brother Leo find his one true love, but I’d never told a girl I loved her. Not even Emma.”

—Sebastian Tate

THAT NIGHT I arrived home from the club around two. Grouchy and tired, all I wanted was to crash in my bed. But as soon as I walked in the door, I got energized and put Monster on her leash and headed out for a walk.

I was going to V’s to check on her. That was all. No kissing. No messing around.

Spider claimed I was off my trolley when it came to her, and maybe he was right. Sure, I’d had plenty of pretty girls in my life, but this morning when she shared that she’d lost her parents, my gut recognized there was more than just lust between us. Something deeper connected us, a natural instinct.

I came to a halt at the bottom of her drive. Judging by her dark house, she was already asleep. Disappointed, I paced around on the street, debating if I should wake her. I fingered my phone. I could call her. But what if she was still angry? What if she never played for me again? What is she was still upset from Harry? I wanted to see her; I didn’t want to see her. It was fucking ridiculous.

As if Monster knew my thoughts, she tugged me up V’s drive. I came to a halt at the big front door and stood there, shifting from one foot to the other.

Just then an overhead light flicked on. Shit.

Without thinking too hard about it, I knocked on the door gently. More than likely, the light was from a motion sensor and she was in bed.

I got nothing but silence.

Didn’t I deserve it? I’d gone too far with her at the restaurant. Again.

A light in one of the front rooms clicked on. She was up.

I knocked harder this time. “V, it’s Sebastian. I just wanna talk,” I said, resting my hand against the door.

That was a lie. I wanted to do way more than that. I wanted her under me, calling my name while I pounded into her. I wanted her straddling me, riding me—I sucked in a sharp breath.

I pressed my forehead against the door. “I know you’re in there. Your lights are on.”

Soft footsteps approached the door. “Go away, Sebastian. It—it’s late and you shouldn’t be here,” she said, and I heard the hurt there, in the halting way the words came out.

I stroked my hand across the door. “Let me see you at least before I go.”

Nothing.

“Please.”

“Where’s Blair?” she asked.

“She went home.” She’d been trashed and after a lot of coaxing from me, I’d gotten her in a limo and dropped her off. She lived a few streets over so it wasn’t uncommon for us to ride together to events where we wanted to be seen together.

“Have you slept with her?”

I closed my eyes and swore under my breath. “One time, before I even moved to LA. It was a hook-up, plain and simple. I haven’t touched her since.” I paused. “It’s crazy, but I haven’t been with anyone since I saw you play your violin.”

Silence on the other side.

“Look,” I sighed. “I’ve been alone for a long time, and a girlfriend isn’t part of my vocabulary, and if you don’t want to have a casual relationship with me, I get that, you’re at a different place than me. But for whatever it’s worth, I’m glad I was there when you had your panic attack, so I could be the one to take care of you—shit, I don’t know what all that even means—just let me see your face.” I’d had more to drink than I realized. I was rambling all over the place.

She opened the door, and I sucked in a breath at how pretty she looked with her long black hair spilling around her shoulders. Some of it was in her face, and I reached out and tucked it behind her ear.

“Hey, Violin Girl.”

“Hey, Blond Guy.”

“You look better.” I fiddled with my jacket, feeling shy for one of the few times in my life. “I was worried about you.”

She stood there, fidgeting in her black dress.

“I didn’t wake you?” I asked.

“No, I was up having some tea.” Her eyes darted back over her shoulder.

I nodded. “I know this is kinda spur of the moment, but let’s get out of town this weekend. Just friends. Spider and Mila, too. We can wear sunglasses and pretend to be tourists, maybe drive to Napa—”

“I can’t go anywhere this weekend. Something unexpected has come up.”

Disappointment ran over me, but I nodded. I shouldn’t have suggested it anyway. “Okay.”

We stood there uncomfortably and I touched her forehead. “You’ve got this little frown right there, and it’s killing me to think you’re mad at me. Can we move forward, forget about Blair?”

She let out a weighty sigh and flicked a glance over her shoulder. Again. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m busy right now.”

At two in the morning?

My gut twisted. “Why? Is someone here?” I cocked my head. Listening.