Marin wasn’t out of town. He knew that because he knew her schedule like the back of his hand. Not that he was stalking her, per se. After all, she told him when she’d be working or when she’d be taking a break, when she’d be spending a weekend alone at her place in the Smokies, and more than once, she’d asked him if he’d like to come with her—a friendly sort of thing, he knew.
But she was in LA and she wasn’t answering his calls. Sebastien figured either one of two things was going on. Either she was too busy to talk—he doubted that. He’d left messages and the last call had been nearly five hours earlier.
The other option . . .she was avoiding him.
If she was avoiding his calls, then he’d probably done something stupid. The daydream from earlier came back to him and he swore. He needed to go talk to her. If he had done something stupid . . .
It was that worry that had him driving out of Malibu and up into the mountains where she lived in the Pacific Palisades. Although they weren’t far apart, their homes were as different as they could be. Marin had a thing for mountains, something Sebastien had figured out a long time ago, and her house, sprawling and elegant, was tucked into fifteen acres, affording her more privacy than one would typically expect to find so close to LA.
Already rehearsing his speech, he punched in a code she’d given him a couple years ago and drove up to the house.
He practically slammed on the brakes when he saw her walking down the steps with somebody—a guy.
A familiar-looking guy.
And she was dressed in a sexy little black scrap of nothing, too.
A date?
Was she going on a date?
The sound of his car caught their attention and wasn’t that just perfect, because he’d been about two seconds from throwing the car into the reverse and getting the hell out of there.
Too late, though.
Marin, her arm hooked through Dash Harlow’s, turned her head and caught sight of him. Dash did the same and Sebastien was close enough to see the wide smile creasing his old friend’s face.
He’d shut everybody save Marin out of his life, including Dash.
Hell, he hadn’t shut people out. He’d all but shoved them out, and a few people, he’d practically thrown them out so hard, it wouldn’t be a wonder if they didn’t have skid marks on their asses from the impact with the ground.
And there was Dash, one of the guys he’d come down on pretty hard, smiling at him.
While he smiled, he had his hands on Marin.
“Son of a bitch.”
It was almost enough to make Sebastien want to go back to his house and bury himself in booze—or would that be drowning himself? He didn’t know. But instead of swinging the car around, he finished the short distance to the house and put the car in park, climbing out just as Dash and Marin reached him.
Dash was never one to hold back affection or enthusiasm and Sebastien found himself getting hugged while the other man pounded him on the back. “Damn, man. You finally crawled out of that hole you fell into. Glad to see you back out in the light of day.” Dash pulled back and caught Sebastien’s face in his hands, staring at him hard. Then he shook his head. “You look like hell. What are you doing, drinking yourself to death and lifting weights and nothing else? Your complexion is shit and your eyes are all bloodshot.”
“One of them is bloodshot. The other is fucked up to hell and back,” Sebastien pointed out. He shoved Dash back, knowing the man wouldn’t take offense. “And pardon me if I don’t go and bathe in mud every other week the way you do, pretty boy.”
“I’ll have you know I’m naturally this gorgeous.” Dash laughed at him. “You used to be. You should go see the people at my spa. A day under their hands and you’ll be back to your beautiful self.”
Sebastien rolled his eyes. “A few days of eating right and getting some decent sleep and I’ll be fine. See, I really am naturally gorgeous.” He scowled. “Well, I was. I didn’t need people at a spa. I could live at a spa now and it wouldn’t do shit.”
Marin spoke up before an awkward silence could settle in. “Sebastien, a spa wouldn’t do shit for you because you don’t need it. You’re not a pretty boy and never were. Leave the mud baths to those who enjoy them . . . like Dash.” She gave them both a cool smile.
“Ouch.” Dash grabbed Sebastien again and hugged him. “I’ve missed you, Seb. Lots of people do. Tell me you’re coming back.”
“Coming . . . What? No. Hell, no.” He shook his head and eased away, focusing on Marin. She met his gaze with an arched brow. “Hey.”
“Sebastien.” Her smile was steady. Her voice was easy.
But there was a warning in his head. It screamed at him.
When he took a step toward her, even though she didn’t do anything, there was . . . something else. It was almost as if she wanted to back away, but wouldn’t let herself.
And when he dipped his head to kiss her cheek, like he’d done a hundred times before, she held herself stiffly.
Just a few days before, she would have hugged him. Kissed him back. Said something about how he needed a haircut or if he didn’t shave soon, she would do it while he slept.