Page 19 of Contested

“Elegant?” Sebastian questioned, turning to look at Marcos with a look Marcos had never seen him wear.

There was still annoyance in it. That seemed to be Sebastian’s natural setting. But something else sat under it now, pulled loose by alcohol or exhaustion.

“Living in a place like this, you’d have to be,” Marcos pointed out.

Sebastian’s gaze stayed on Marcos until the elevator door opened, and Marcos felt something shift, though he couldn’t pin it down. All he knew was that it felt softer.

Marcos stepped into the elevator after Sebastian and watched him press thirty-two.

“Wow,” Marcos murmured, letting out another whistle.

“Shut up.”

Marcos grinned before pursing his lips together and tilting his head to stare at the ceiling as the elevator rose.

The silence stretched the entire ride up.

It should have been awkward. Maybe it was. Marcos didn’t know. He was too busy noticing the way Sebastian stood with his right shoulder slightly forward, protecting something on his left side. Once Marcos saw it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. The careful breathing. The way his hand hovered near his ribs, then dropped when Marcos looked.

The doors opened on the thirty-second floor.

Sebastian stepped out first, and Marcos followed him down the hallway a few steps behind. The carpet softened their footsteps. The walls were quiet and plain, every door spaced evenly. Marcos suddenly felt too sweaty again.

Sebastian stopped outside his door.

The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Sebastian stood back, gesturing into the apartment.

Marcos raised an eyebrow, confused at the sudden acceptance, but didn’t say anything.

“Shoes off,” Sebastian said as Marcos crossed the threshold.

Marcos obliged, toeing his shoes off and sliding them to the side before stepping further into the apartment. The door shut behind him.

The small hall opened into a large living area with the kitchen set off to one side. Marcos came to a stop without meaning to.

This wasn’t a small one-bedroom apartment. This was basically a house sitting in the sky.

Everything looked clean and organised, not in a way that suggested no one lived there, but in a way that suggested Sebastian kept everything exactly where it belonged. The kitchen bench was clear except for a fruit bowl, a coffee machine, and a glass sitting near the sink. The couch was low and expensive-looking, set in front of a large television mounted on the wall. An entertainment unit sat beneath it with a PlayStation set up and a few controllers placed beside it.

“Huh,” Marcos said quietly, then his gaze moved on.

The windows dominated the space. The city spread out beyond them, still bright against the night. Towers lit in clean lines, roads carrying headlights in slow streams below. Farther out, the black shape of the gardens cut through the glow, and beyond that the night opened wider. Marcos could see why someone would pay stupid money to live here.

He could also feel how quiet it was.

At home, there was always something. Becca moving too loudly or Paula tapping his doorframe. Diana calling from the kitchen and Greg dropping keys into the bowl near the entry. The television on, a chair scraping, water running, someone’s phone playing a video in the next room.

Sebastian’s apartment had nothing other than the low hum of the fridge.

“You saw. You happy?” Sebastian asked from the hall behind Marcos.

“Thrilled,” Marcos said with a grin.

He heard Sebastian shift behind him and turned, accidentally knocking into him.

Sebastian inhaled sharply, his hand shooting toward the left of his chest, slipping underneath his jacket.

“You good?” Marcos asked, reaching out, but Sebastian took a step back and shook his head.