Sebastian: The Complete Series (28 page)

“I do.”

“No you don’t. But you will do.”

R
obert and I spent Sunday and Monday at his house. Usually, being cooped up would be the most tedious thing for me, but because I’d thrown my course work in my suitcase and spoken to my professor at uni. I had lots to catch up on, and I used the time to work my butt off while Robert worked from home. He’d not just been doing his own important work with his patients, but he’d been on the phone to Harriot and the police too, sorting my shit out. Part of me wanted to step in and do it myself, but the other part wanted to stay the fuck away from it and never think about it again.

The only people I'd spoken to apart from my professor were my mum and Harry. Harry I didn’t need to lie to, and I'd been
sort of
honest with my professor saying I'd been having problems with an ex and the police had become involved. He said he knew something was going on at home due to my grades dropping, and I promised him I’d be working hard while I was away. My mum… well, how could I be honest with her? I'd simply told her I was taking a course at a different university for a week or so. She knew it wasn’t just that, but let it go. I wanted to break down and tell her everything, ask her for advice, but how could I when I would disappoint her so much?

Tuesday came around quickly, and even though nothing had been sorted out with my stalker-ish ex-client and all around crazy person Anthony, things felt better. Robert and I were talking and getting to know each other better, my course work was up to date, sort of, and I felt more rested and energised for having a few days off. I’d slept loads. I didn’t realise how tired I'd become over the past few months, but knowing I could laze around the house in my scruffy clothes, not do my hair and just generally be myself, allowed me to see how stressed out I'd become.

I had this mental tick list which I was working through, and every time something disappeared from it, the better and lighter I felt. I was sleeping through the night and eating better, generally on Robert’s knee while he fed me, but it was something we both got enjoyment out of, and I got to eat a hell of a lot more than on my own. A month of living with him and I wouldn’t be able to fit in my clothes. Which I think would make him happy. Me? Not so sure. I was just going with it and it seemed to be working.

By Tuesday afternoon, Robert had to leave for the hospital. It was the first time we’d been apart and I felt funny about being in the house all by myself. I had loads to do, and somehow I'd agreed to cook him something so I had that to occupy myself while he was away. He very rarely took time off, so having a long weekend at home was nice, but it meant he was behind. He’d be back at around eight, and it suddenly felt so much longer than seven hours.

After working out on Robert’s running machine for an hour and having a long shower, I called my parents up. Mum said she’d called round to the apartment the day before and met Leigh. I sighed when she asked me if Harry and I had broken up. At least I could be honest with her. Well, by honest…I told her it ended a while ago and we were still friends and I wanted him and Leigh to be together. I made sure she knew it wasn’t because of that I was living down south for a bit and I was okay. In fact, I was seeing someone new. That’s how I talked about Robert to her for the first time. It felt like a weight off my chest and I was happy to share him with her.

We chatted for over an hour, about him, about the issues we had—not my job, but his ex, our ages, the travelling, everything but the two big reasons spoiling it for us. The agency and Anthony.

She wanted to meet him obviously, but I said it was too soon. I wanted them to meet, but not until I was sure it was something worth the hassle. Just because I loved him, it didn’t change anything. We both had to be in the same place.

While I fucked about in the kitchen preparing lasagne for dinner, I read through a book which I had to do a paper on the following month. I couldn't concentrate with the music on, so the house was in silence as I cleaned up the mess I'd made. A woman frightened the crap out of me when she spoke up. I almost dropped the glass dish with my lasagne in it on the floor, but managed to keep it steady as I stared at the stout, brown-haired woman in front of me.

Turns out she was Robert’s cleaner and she came round a couple of times a week to pick up after him. I laughed because in the past few days I'd noticed he really didn’t do much and it was a shock to see how messy everything had gotten so quickly. I thought it was because of me, and he hadn't disputed it, so I thought he’d relaxed his prissy attitude about organising to let me settle in. It was nice to find out he was always like this and she was the one who kept everything looking smart and polished.

She liked to gossip, so I followed her around the house, getting all the juicy stuff on her other paying customers before broaching the subject of Robert. She’d worked for him for almost eight years, pre dating the ex. Pretending I knew all about everything and anything, I snuck a bit of info from her about Leo, mainly that he disliked her being there and he was the one who wanted Robert to get rid of her and do it themselves, but she also said he was the worst one for not cleaning up after himself, and how could Robert work the hours he did and clean up after two of them? I agreed. I had no issues having to pay someone to clean up for me.

She left at five and I lay down in the now pristine sitting room and finished off my book, making notes and planning out my paper. The house phone began ringing but he had an answering machine and he only called me on the mobile, so I let it ring out. It was when the Etonian sounding voice came from the speaker that I laid my book down and looked at the phone. He sounded like an older version of Harry with his posh I-went-to-private-school-and-wear-tweed sort of accent.

“Hey, Bobby, I have Hannah’s gift wrapped and ready. It was delivered yesterday but I couldn't get hold of you. You’re not at work! I’m shocked. Are you ill?” The guy laughed and I felt like walking out of the room because this was private. But then, who was he? Who was Hannah? Why did he have a gift and why feel the need to tell Robert?
And
, O.M.G Bobby?? Mr Only Call Me Robert allowed people to use Bobby? “I’ll have it with me at lunch tomorrow. See you at one at our usual table at The Connaught.”

It was around half an hour later when I picked my book back up and started reading again. I had no idea who Hannah was, but she had a gift which this guy got for Robert. Why else would he call up and tell him, then say he’d bring it with him? If he’d bought it for this Hannah, wouldn’t he just give her the fucking thing?

Okay, so Robert probably met up for lunch with loads of friends and colleagues, but one who called him Bobby? That meant close friend. Like
close
. Probably we-used-to-fuck close. It bothered me he hadn't left a name, and I didn’t feel right bugging Robert about it because it was meant for him not me. But the niggling doubt about this guy pricked my skin like sharp needles which wouldn’t leave me alone.

By the time I'd got the lasagne out of the oven forty minutes later and threw a salad together, Robert was walking in the house looking tired but very sexy in his dark three piece suit and five o’clock shadow.

“Hey, sexy. Welcome home.”

“Hey.” Robert dumped his briefcase and coat on the chair in the hall and walked to me, standing behind me, curling his arms around my waist and giving me a deep kiss on the back of the neck, taking time afterwards to smell me. “Something smells good.”

“Hopefully it will taste like it smells.”

“Hmm, what? Sexy and sinful?”

“Huh?”

“I meant you.” He chuckled as he pulled back, turning my head and kissing my lips softly. “But the food smells nice too. The house looks clean.” He paused then tilted his head and groaned. “Shit, I forgot to tell you about Shirley.”

“Oh yeah.” I laughed. “She did spook the crap out of me when she just let herself in, but we chatted. She's cool. Also, I totally agree with you having her.” I smiled cheekily at him and he raised his brows at me.

“Gossiping, huh?”

“Maybe.” I shifted from him, slicing up the lasagne while he moved to stand behind me, encasing my body in his and kissing my neck. “You don’t have time to clean up, and you're giving someone else a job who enjoys what she does. There’s no harm in that.”

“Hmm. What else did she say?”

“Nothing really.” I didn’t want to get her in trouble, but that was the truth. She didn’t tell me much. “I didn’t quiz her for info or anything. We gossiped about her other clients, but not you. She just told me how long she’d been here and how much she liked you. That you operated on her hip a couple of years ago and she’s never felt better.”

“She’s a friend and I’d be lost without her. Her and Leo don’t get on.”

“Still see him, does she?” The use of present tense bothered me. Like he still came round and they saw each other or something. I looked back at him over my shoulder. “Is this house part his? Does he own half of it or something?”

“No.” He looked a little sterner. “It’s all mine. He never… I never asked him or wanted him to contribute to the mortgage. It was always mine.”

“Right.” I looked back to the plates and sighed internally. He either had super big trust issues with this guy or he had them with everyone. “Why?”

“Because… because it’s mine.” He moved from me, sitting opposite me at the bar. “I never felt like…” He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled. “This house was mine forever, he wasn’t.”

“Okay.” He was being honest, even though he seemed to be embarrassed by it. “Was it just him, or do you have these sort of feelings for everyone?”

“You mean you?” He toyed with the serving spoon on the side while he asked.

“No. I don’t know. Yes, I worry you wouldn’t trust me and you would treat me the same way, not let me in and share everything, but I guess I meant others in your past.”

“He's the only real relationship I've had, so there are no others. Just passing boyfriends in college. I mentioned I fucked around a lot.” He grinned at me. “Not while I was seeing someone, but in between, there’s been a few.”

“Yeah, me too, and I don’t judge you for that. Cheating’s not my thing either, just in case you’re wondering. I wouldn’t shag about behind your back.”

I could tell when I met his eyes he was struggling to not say something and I knew what it was.

“The clients don’t count.”

“Right.” He stood up quickly, heading to the fridge.

“They don’t.”

“Okay. I agree.”

“No you don’t.”

He placed the bottle of wine he'd go out on the surface a little too loudly and I sighed.

“I’d tell you—”

“I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear about the other men you see. Not one word. This Anthony thing is the only issue we’re going to discuss.” He reached up, taking two wine glasses from the shelf and loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as he turned to me. “I can't be expected to be okay with this, Sebastian. I don’t… I just can't deal with it.”

“Okay. If that's what you want.” It would make things easier, I guessed. “Will you be seeing others too? For sex I mean.”

“I get enough with you.” He smirked as he poured us both a drink. “More than enough.”

“So…” I took the glass from him and looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to share you.”

He laughed loudly. “Baby, I don’t want to share you either, but it’s happening.”

“What's that supposed to mean? That you're going to see other people but not fuck them just to piss me off?” I grabbed hold of the surface so tightly I thought I'd break my fingers. I didn’t like games.

“No.” Robert leaned on his elbows and smiled at me. “I don’t want to deliberately hurt you, Seb. I'm not thinking about being with others when I can have you.”

“And when you can't? When I'm on a date and you're driving yourself mad thinking what I'm doing, what then? You going to run off and find someone because I'm not with you?”

“Where did that come from?” Robert tried to take hold of my hand, but I began serving the food out. “Sebastian…”

“What?”

“You know…” He stood up, taking off his suit jacket and throwing it over a chair behind him by the table. “You're a moody little thing. Is it hormones?” He sauntered behind me again, leaning down and kissing my neck. “It could be down to your age, but I'm thinking it’s more me who’s pissing you off.”

“Are you going to continue to throw my age back in my face all the time? I could do that to you too.”