This diner isn’t remarkable, but the food is. I think it’s all the salt they put on everything. They even put it on the pizza.

Even though it’s my favorite place to eat, I’m surprised I was able to eat anything at all.

The fear and paranoia are embarrassing. I’m fucking embarrassed I got so worked up this morning. It’s just… finding that list and the nightmares really got to me. I felt like I was drowning in a childish fear that still has its claws rooted deep in my thoughts.

The fear faded to uneasiness when Sebastian talked me down. Just being around him makes me feel safe and protected. If I could be with him always, I would. Because he settles something deep down inside of me. He makes me crave more. More from life, but also more from him.

A different kind of nervousness took over the moment I got into his car. The soft leather was something I didn’t expect. The hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clearing of Sebastian’s throat were the only noises the entire ride.

This morning, I had to tell someone and he’s my only someone, even if that’s a pathetic truth. I didn’t think twice. He didn’t answer his phone, so I went to where I knew he’d be. It made every bit of sense to me at the time.

Until I slipped into his car and was engulfed in his scent. Until I peeked at him as he drove his car with an air of dominance and authority.

In a room with other people, or even in a room I’m used to being in, Sebastian is still the boy who kissed me. But alone, in his car, something changed. And suddenly I lost my voice along with every thought I ever had, except for the dirty ones that crept up late at night about Sebastian doing more than just kissing me.

Today has been nothing but a series of fucked up thoughts running wild in my head.

“What’s on your mind, Chloe Rose?” His deep, rough voice breaks into my thoughts and I take my time reaching for another fry, carefully taking a bite before answering him.

“Just wondering about how much can change in a single day.”

I can feel the heat rise up my chest and to my cheeks, all the way to my hairline as he leans forward, his broad shoulders stretching out the t-shirt as he tells me, “I would swear you were thinking about something else.”

His steely blue eyes seize all my attention and hold me accountable. I can barely breathe, but he doesn’t need the confirmation. He’s plenty full of himself already, so I simply eat the rest of the fry and shrug. I ignore the butterflies and the desire to push him for more of that teasing side of him. This is the part of his personality I’ve craved, but I don’t want to appear desperate or say something stupid. I don’t want to ruin it. I can barely believe I’m here with him. I don’t even want to think about it for too long; I’m afraid if I do, it’ll all go away.

His cocky half smirk is what makes me look anywhere but at him as I try to remember how I ended up here with him.

Thoughts that I wish I hadn’t tried to return to.

Remembering when my mother died, how I felt the same way. Afraid and paranoid. I felt like no one understood why I was so completely distraught. The mix of emotions never felt right, and I never had any control over them. They hit me relentlessly, like the constant blow of boughs as I was forced to run through trees in a forest. Swiping at me, scratching me, taking me by surprise. I was only a girl, but old enough to remember, old enough to know I could have done something.

“I thought I was done with all this,” I tell him absently.

“How’s that?” Sebastian asks me with his brow furrowed and a look in his eyes that’s compassionate and curious. This is how I imagined he’d look when I read those texts all that time ago. It was only an image conjured in my head because I’d never seen anything of him other than the hard, dangerous boy he wanted everyone to see.

“Do you really want to know?” I question him, the uneasiness returning. He nods his head once and I figure, why not? I have no one to talk to and after this, I’m not sure he’ll even talk to me again. So why not let it all out?

“I thought I was over feeling like this…” Before I can finish, the air conditioner blows across my skin from above me just then, and a flow of goosebumps trails down my arm and shoulders making me wish I hadn’t picked this seat.

“You want to switch spots?” Sebastian asks and again, I’m surprised he would ask me that.

I gently shake my head and try to recall what I was thinking only seconds ago. Before Sebastian destroyed my thoughts again with a mere five words. He’s good at that.

Clearing my throat, I stare down at the half-eaten pile of fries and remember the gut-wrenching feeling and sickness of what’s to come. The living in fear and agony part. Oh yes, that’s what he took my mind from.

“I thought I’d gotten over this feeling of being in constant state of fear and guilt.” I don’t look at him as I speak this time. If I do, I’m not certain that my mind will stay on course. “Even after you…” I don’t mention what he did, and my gaze almost darts up to meet his eyes, but instead, they fall on his lips. “Even after school let out that year,” I say, choosing to settle on the time rather than the action we both know I’m referring to. “Even then, at night there was this feeling, but it drifted away. And then when my uncle died, I was just angry.” My voice raises at the thought, my breathing coming in faster.

Sitting back into my seat, I look at him and feel as if I should feel ashamed, but I’m not.

“Angry?” he questions.

“Yeah. I was angry. It wasn’t fair that I was stuck here.” Emotions threaten to come up at my admission. I loved my uncle and he’d passed only two years ago, right before I graduated high school. I was old enough to take the shit debt he left behind. “I know it’s not his fault; he wanted better for me…”

I don’t finish that line of thinking. “The point is, I thought I was done with all of this. For the first time in so long, I was fine.”

“You were relying on yourself. So, of course, you were fine.” Sebastian sounds confident in his response, but he doesn’t get it. Parts of me are so thoroughly broken that even the idea I have to rely on myself is horrifying. Rebecca used to say it was understandable after the trauma I’d been through. What she called trauma, I just called my childhood. No wonder I turned to books and writing to help me cope. Getting lost in my stories was a lot more enjoyable than facing reality.

“Everyone needs someone,” I answer him, holding his gaze and praying he can feel what I mean. That he can know how deeply settled I am in that decision.

“You didn’t have a someone, and you were fine.”

I almost answer him with, I didn’t say everyone deserves someone. Almost. But I decide to swallow it down. I sure as hell don’t want his pity.

The ping of my phone distracts me from the conversation. Sebastian’s here with me, so it must be Angie. Pulling it out, I see I’m right.

Where the hell are you? Stop being a bitch and answer me!

Angie certainly has a way with words.

I’m not coming in. I send her the response and then think better of it and add, I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling all that well today.

Before she can reply, I silence my phone and slip it back into my purse. She wouldn’t understand. She’d think I’m crazy. Shit, I think I’m crazy. My heart beats a little faster at remembering the pure fear that ran through me when I saw Tamra died. My name was on the bottom of that list. If someone else made a list like mine, would my name be on theirs too?

The chill from the air conditioner comes back and I let my head fall back with my eyes closed, suppressing the urge to feel anything at all. I’d rather be numb to it all. Goosebumps prick along my skin once again, slowly this time. It’s just the chill, I tell myself. It’s definitely from the air conditioner.

“Who’s that?”

Sebastian’s question distracts me from my thoughts and I open my eyes slowly to tell him, “Nobody.”

“So, nobody texted you?” Sebastian asks with what feels like a touch of jealousy. I’m ashamed by the way my body reacts. I feel a heat that swells from the pit of my stomach, rising up but also moving lower. Forcing a small smile to my lips, I answer him, “Just a friend.”

When his expression doesn’t change, I roll my eyes at him and say, “I finally got one of those.” My answer is pitiful, but I own it. I don’t care that I’m a loner who prefers books and writing and hiding away in my stories. Books are cheap, and the people in them are better than the ones I have left here.

He looks like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. He finishes his drink and then reaches for his wallet.

“I can buy lunch,” I offer. “After all, I kind of ruined your day.” He cocks a brow and doesn’t answer me. Instead he puts some cash down on the table, more than enough to pay for both of us.

“I said I can get this one,” I tell him and reach for the cash to shove it back to him, but he snatches my wrist. Electricity shoots through me, the desire returning with a blazing force.

He releases me slowly and I bring my wrist back to me, staring at it as if it’s been singed. I’m reeling in the shivers that flow through my body.

“I pay,” is all he says, with a forcefulness that spikes desire through me. I can’t break his gaze, I can’t speak.

“I want to,” he adds in a gentler tone.

“How do you do this to me?” I ask him, but then I think of a different question. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to.” He uses the same intensity as before, but somehow his words come out softer, almost comforting. The tension is thick between us and I wonder if he feels the same pull I do. “Why did you come to see me?” he asks me, and the question breaks the spell, my eyes falling to the table and the realization that the lunch is over. That this moment is only temporary, just like Sebastian’s presence in my life.

“Because I wanted to,” I offer him a similar response, shrugging and then pulling up the baggy sleeves to my t-shirt. How is it that hours have passed, and I’ve only just now realized I’m in my pajamas? I didn’t even bother to put on mascara. I always put on mascara, I look so much younger without it.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re doing this?” I ask him again, feeling irritated by everything, especially my reaction to the series of events that happened today.

“I just wanted to have a nice meal with you.” Hearing those words from him makes me smile and let out a short laugh. My mirth doesn’t wane when he looks at me with confusion, instead, it only makes me grin harder. Maybe I truly am crazy.

“What’d I say?” he asks, and I just shake my head, taking a peek at him while lowering my lips to have a sip of Coke from the straw.

I let the bubbling fizz relax me and then straighten myself to tell him, “Just the thought of you having a nice lunch and then heading off to your nine-to-five job.”

The charming grin grows on his face, revealing his perfect white teeth. “Don’t you know I’m a hardworking, blue-collar type of man?”

I hold his gaze and keep my smile in place as I tell him, “I know who you are, Sebastian Black.”

My taunting doesn’t get me the reaction I’m after. Instead, he slips his mask back into place, hiding from me.

My next breath is accompanied by a long stretch and then I take another drink. A coldness sets in between us. I can feel it coming. It used to come so often when we were forced to be together. The moment he knew he’d let me in, he’d shut it down.

I should have known better than to think it would last. Maybe I didn’t think it would, but I sure as fuck want it to.

“Something is truly wrong with me,” I speak the thought without conscious consent.

“You’re a product of your environment,” Sebastian answers me. He sinks back against the booth and stares at me long and hard. The fake, thin leather protests as he watches the front door.

“I should get home,” I tell him, so we can end whatever this moment has been. “I’m sorry I came and…. decided to be crazy and vent to you.”

“I’m not.” He answers me the same way he did with paying for lunch. No nonsense, no bullshit. And the same response flows through my body. For years, in school and up till the day my uncle died, I wanted him to be like this with me. To just talk to me.

“Be careful what you say at the shop though,” he tells me and then adds, “people listen.” The tone in which he says it brings an uneasy feeling over me and with a tightness in my throat, I start to tell him I’m sorry, but he cuts me off.

“Just so you know for next time.” The softness to him, it does something to me I can’t explain. Next time. As if I could have this moment again with him.

“You’re different,” I marvel at the revelation out loud.

“I’m not the one who’s different.”

“What do you mean?” I search his eyes for answers, wanting to know how he meant me to take that statement. Needing to know.

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know what matters anymore.”

“What do you know, Chloe Rose?”

The way he asks it, or maybe it’s just my own thoughts, but it feels like the way he asks it is so much dirtier than what he actually asked.

“I know I should go to work or go home.” Neither of those options sounds appealing, but both are true.

“It’ll already be two by the time you get to work,” he says and shakes his head, “don’t bother.”

“Home it is then,” I say, easily conceding, and reaching for my purse as I scoot out of the booth to stand. “Thank you for lunch,” I tell him and then add, “I can walk since it’s--”

“Let me take you home.” He doesn’t look me in the eyes when he gives the command, he doesn’t even look at me. It’s clearly non-negotiable, so I don’t bother objecting.

The drive back to my place is even worse than the drive to the diner. Thankfully, it only takes about four minutes. And two of those were spent at a red light.

“I really could have walked,” I tell him as I slip out of his car. He opened his door first, intent on getting out rather than just dropping me off, so I walk a little quicker, eager to get to my front door first and cut him off there. I just want to be alone for a while. I want to hide away if I can. I need to process everything, but Sebastian has a way of bringing me out of my hiding place and showing me more of this world that makes me want to risk living.

“Should I come in and look around?” he asks as his car keys dangle from his hand. He stands in front of me expectantly, but I can’t give him that.

“I'd prefer it if you didn't.” The moment I unlock the door and turn around, I block the doorway and put a hand on the doorknob. It’s only open wide enough for me to stand in the gap comfortably. “I think I need to decompress; today’s been a lot to handle.”

He cocks a brow at me in that way I like. “You wouldn’t lock me out, would you?”

The way he asks makes me smirk, which slowly shifts into a genuine smile as I consider him. He’s so tall, so much taller than how he is in my thoughts. And his shoulders, so wide. He could protect me from anything. That pull to him is so strong it’s scary. But Sebastian himself doesn’t scare me, not in the least. He never has. It’s the power he has over me that’s terrifying. “I would… but if you asked to come in, I’d let you.”

My answer puts a smile on his face that matches mine. “See? I told you, you’re different.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head. I’m not so sure that I’m different. It’s more like I’m letting him see more of me. That’s not the same thing.

He leans in close as I fail to summon a response, so close that I know exactly what he would want if I didn’t lock him out tonight. I’m in over my head with him, hot and bothered and wanting the same thing he does.

I need to get away from this city more than ever.

“Get some sleep then,” he says softly, in a deep, rugged tone when my eyes meet his. The carnal need that burns in his gaze sets my body on fire. I’m still standing there, watching him walk away when I can finally breathe again.

What is he doing to me?

The feeling deep in my gut, the one that used to be constantly present, still lingers as I walk up the stairs. Something is telling me it’s not all right, it’s not a coincidence. But that something is quieted by the thoughts of Sebastian and the idea that if it’s not all right, I can run to him. It brings out a strength in me I desperately need. He does that to me. And I find it hard not to be drawn to him even more because of it, my stupid heart especially. He’s been good at hurting it in the past, but it still wants more of him.