Page 50 of Please Open Me
Worse than that, I heard bickering.
“You can’t just say you’re going to fuck my wife.”
That was Lucian.
“Yeah, I’m not just going to say it,” came Sebastian’s voice. “I’m going todoit.”
I froze, hand hovering over the doorknob. Every part of me screamed to go back to bed and pretend I hadn’t heard any of it.
But Cameron would know, and he’d ask. And that would become a thing.
So I twisted the knob and slipped through the door, praying I could sneak past them.
No chance.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lucian hissed at Sebastian.
The sour, skunky smell of marijuana hit me instantly. So did Sebastian’s low laugh.
Weed never bothered me. Hell, Seb and I had already talked about smoking together once I was done breastfeeding. But right now?
It churned my stomach.
I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gagging. The slight wet sound made both of them look at me like they weren’t just mid-argument over which one of them got to fuck me.
So much for sneaking past.
Two pairs of eyes locked on me. At first, they looked surprised, maybe even a little guilty, but that shame shifted fast into hunger.
An incredibly familiar hunger.
But, I’d never seen it on both of them at the same time.
Sebastian adjusted his glasses, sitting up a little straighter. He cleared his throat like he could cough the high out of his lungs, but the pink around his eyes and that stupid smirk on his face gave him away.
“Hey, Princess,” he rasped, voice thick with smoke. “What’re you doing up? Cameron said you weren’t feeling great.”
I ignored him and moved toward the kitchen, hoping they’d get back to their dick measuring contest and leave me out of it.
Nope.
Lucian followed.
“Wait, you’resick? Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracked just a little.
Lucian was a much better actor than Seb, but something still feltoff. I braced a hand on the counter, studying him, chewing on my lip.
His pupils were blown wide, his gaze flitting from my mouth to my eyes like he was trying to solve a puzzle and kept getting the wrong answer.
Lucian was usually all confidence, unapologetically himself. That was part of what I loved about him. He didn’t give a single fuck about being liked.
But right now? He looked anxious. I couldn’t place what, but something wasoff. He didn’t smell like pot, but he didn’t exactly seemsober.
“What the fuck is going on?” I muttered under my breath, mostly to myself.“I’m not sick,” I said louder. “Just a bad mental health day.”
Not a lie. Not the whole truth either.
But it didn’t require me to explain that I was apparently more fertile than the acres of farmland in our backyard.
