I’m still more than a little skeptical, but I can’t deny that he’s breaking me down.
The fact that he can’t seem to take either his hands or his eyes off me at any one time should freak me out, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss both the second Bill lowered a towering burger in front of him.
I don’t want to need him. Hell, I don’t want to need anyone, but I can feel it happening and I hate it, because when this all turns out to be just another move in whatever game he’s playing, it’s going to rip my fucking heart out.
“We’re going home tomorrow,” he informs me once Bill’s cleared our plates and delivered me another chocolate milkshake at Seb’s request. I’m starting to wonder if he was just trying to sweeten me up for this conversation.
“Oh, are we?” I spit, moving away from him.
“Baby, don’t be like that.”
“Like what? Like you’re telling me what I have to do?”
He scrubs his hand down his face, his eyes holding mine.
“We need to go home. You need to come home.”
“Why? So the fucking creep you think is after me can try again?”
The way his face drops at my words clues me in to the fact that he really believes there’s a threat waiting for me at home.
“Wouldn’t it just be safer for me to stay?” I sulk.
“And wait for him to find you here instead of where I can keep you safe?”
“Because you did such a good job of that the first time.”
His jaw tics as he studies me. “I didn’t know you had a psycho trailing your ass.”
“We don’t know that I even do.”
His brow lifts.
“Okay, fine. There’s a chance I do. The knife thing is weird, I’ll admit. But it could just be really freaky coincidence.”
“That there’s a man running around London with an exact replica of your pink knife and it just so happened to land in your belly? Yeah, I’m sure.” He cocks his head to the side and quirks a brow.
“Whatever.”
“Argue all you like, Princess. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“And you’ve dragged me away from my friends on my last night here,” I complain, knowing full well that I’m going to be getting on that flight tomorrow.
“I won’t keep you to myself all night.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Do you?” he quips.
I suck in a deep breath, ready to come back with some biting remark, but I quickly find I don’t have anything.
I love my friends as if they’re my sisters, but I’ve had two weeks with them that I wasn’t expecting. As much as I want to be mad about Seb stealing my last night with them, I’m not.
“Take a walk with me?” he asks, his tone much softer than before. Apparently, he can read me better than I was expecting.
Pushing my half-empty milkshake aside, I slide from the booth.
Seb throws enough cash down on the table to cover our meal and then snatches my hand and leads me from the diner.