Sebastian lay in bed, awake, staring at the ceiling as Chelsea arrived home. He heard her come up the stairs, but instead of heading to his bedroom, she went into the shower and he heard the water running for what felt like forever. The scent of soap and cherries filled the hall, and he rubbed a hand over his face for what felt like the thousandth time that hour. Tonight, he wasn’t sketching. It brought zero relief, because all he wanted to sketch was Chelsea.
And every time he pictured her face, he saw her dark, tortured eyes as she confessed her secret to him, over and over again.
I was roofied and left in a Dumpster.
He hated himself, but he needed to know more. What had happened? Did she know who’d done it to her? Was this why she wouldn’t date? Why she looked at men with fear and anger when they approached her? The questions ate at his mind.
The water turned off and he sat up in bed, waiting. Was she going to spend tonight with him after all? Or had his careless, pissy words scared her off?
Fuck, he hoped not. Maybe he needed to make the first move, to tell her he was sorry. Sebastian got out of bed—
—just as Chelsea knocked on his door. She poked her head in, her normally cheerful expression gone. “Can we talk?”
“Hop on in,” he said, gesturing at the bed he’d just vacated.
She slid into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of tiny boy short panties and another tank top. This one was purple and had her derby team’s logo on it. She came and sat cross-legged on the bed, clearly unwilling to lay down until they got it all out of their systems. All right, then, he could meet her halfway. He sat down across from her and sat cross-legged as well, his sleep pants tight on his knees. He was shirtless, and rubbed a hand on his chest. “Would you be more comfortable if I got dressed?”
“What?” She waved a hand, dismissing his words. “Pff, no. I’m totally fine. I’ve seen you more unclothed than that.”
“I just wasn’t sure after . . .”
“After I told you I was raped?” The look she gave him was patient. “We can talk about it, you know. I’m terrible with sharing things, but the more I think about it, the more I think this is a good thing, the sharing.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “So maybe you should let me talk for a bit and not interrupt, okay?”
“I can do that. Just one question before you start. Did you guys win tonight?”
She looked surprised and then pleased. Her mouth pulled into a grin that showed a swollen lip, and he could already see the shadows of bruises on her legs and one arm. Her eyes sparkled with delight. “We wrecked them, thank you for asking.”
Sebastian chuckled. Whatever else came out of this, it was clear she loved her sport. “I’m glad.”
“You were right, though. I was playing ruthless and unkind. The coach called me out on it.” She grimaced and looked down at her hands. “Thing is, when I get rattled, I tend to go into combat mode. And I’ve been a little rattled lately. First, my friend Pisa moved to Austin. She was my roomie and my best friend. I called her my derby wife. She would have got my ass back on track and told me to get my head in the game, but she’s not here anymore.” A small sigh escaped her. “Between that and the marriage and sleeping in a new place, I guess I feel a little more ‘off’ than I thought I would. But that’s not what we really need to talk about, right?” She blinked rapidly and looked at him as if waiting.