Two guys had approached her—not surprising given her bright yet sexy costume. But instead of the polite disinterest he expected to see on her face, she looked downright panicked. Her back was pressed against the wall and the look in her eyes was not one of interest but of helpless fear. Her hands were clenched into fists, and she looked ready to hit someone.
And his protective instincts surged. Ignoring the person who tried to get his attention, he tucked the plate against his chest and muscled his way back through the crowd toward her. One of the guys leaned in, and just as he did, Sebastian swooped between the men and Chelsea. “Here you go, Snookums.” He leaned in and pressed the plate of food into her hands, and to stake his “claim” he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Then he looped a hand around her waist and gave the men a challenging look. “New friends?”
“We were just leaving,” the one dressed as a baseball player said. He nudged his buddy and they wandered away.
Chelsea had a blank look on her face, and she shoved one of the mini cupcakes into her mouth. “Thanks.”
“You okay?” Sebastian studied her, and she seemed . . . strange. Like she’d shut down all the fun she was having earlier.
“I’m good.” She chewed and gave him a close-lipped smile. “Appreciate the save.”
Again, he wondered at her black eye and the brief flicker of terror he’d seen on her face when the guys cornered her. “You sure?”
“Yep. Thanks for the food. You want some?” She offered the plate to him but couldn’t look him in the eye.
Now his protective instinct was in an all-out war with common sense. It was more than just a guy looking out for a girl. He liked Chelsea as a person, and she seemed to be struggling. And a weird sort of idea blossomed in his mind.
He dismissed it.
Looked at her again as she nibbled on a cookie.
The idea wouldn’t go away.
Sebastian kept considering it. Chelsea was perfect for him in a lot of ways—the biggest being that she wasn’t interested in a relationship. He needed a relationship to get Lisa off his back . . . but didn’t want one.
He studied Chelsea’s black eye and the way she nervously eyed the crowd. Gone was her ease, and she moved a little closer to him when he put his arm back around her waist.
She trusted him. He wondered if she’d be up for the nutty plan that kept running through his mind. Won’t know unless you ask, his mind whispered. So he leaned in again when the music started for a new song, and again, the scent of cherries touched his nose. Why did she have to smell so damn good? It was distracting. “You want to escape to a balcony or something?”
The look she gave him was utter relief. “That sounds awesome.” She handed her plate off to a server, licked her thumb, and smiled at him.
And he was going to have mental images of her licking her thumb all night, wasn’t he? Then he thought of the way she’d stiffened in utter fear and chided himself for being a jerk. It was clear she was afraid of some guy, and Sebastian wanted to fix it.
Sure, fixing it might be a little self-serving, but he figured they could kill two birds with one stone.
Keeping his arm firmly around Chelsea’s waist, he steered her toward the edge of the room. The balcony was full of people, and someone appeared to be having a fight out there. Bad place to talk about what he intended. So he kept steering her, heading down a hall. It was cordoned off with a velvet rope so no party guests would enter, but he suspected Hunter wouldn’t mind. He pulled it aside and gestured for Chelsea to enter the room.
She skated in, and he winced mentally at the sound of her roller skates on the hardwood flooring. Well, if they fucked it up, he supposed he could just pay for it. He didn’t care. Right now he just wanted privacy with her and a place where they could talk.