Page 70 of Shark’s Edge

I was glad for a chance to laugh, even if it was drier than gluten-free bread. “I think I’d know if I’d checked off that box.”

“Checked off the box.” Bafflement twisted his beautiful face. “So, that’s what it is to you, then? Just a little square to be stamped?”

“Isn’t it?” His immediate glower had me visibly prickling. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you burned your V card with any more ceremony.”

He jutted his chin. Dear God, he had one of the most perfect jawlines on the planet. “That was different,” he answered, looking away.

“How?”

“I was a teenager!”

“And things would’ve been different if you were my age?”

A new huff. “Well, that never would’ve happened.”

“Then go with me for a second. Use that imagination I’d bet is very capable. Would things have been different?”

He rubbed his furrowed forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “No,” he finally growled. “I doubt it would have been any different.”

“But for me it should be? Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“You’re damning me no matter what answer I give here, Red.” His frustration morphed into resignation.

But I couldn’t drop the subject. He needed to hear my point. “I’m a woman who has been focused on learning my craft and building my career instead of taking time for a full-on relationship.”

Sebastian yanked in a sharp hiss, pointing at me with gusto. “And there it is.”

“There what is?”

“The word,” he bit back.

“What word?”

“Relationship.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Do you think that’s what this is right now, Little Red?” He spoke it like an accusation, and I was pretty sure he meant it like one too. “Between us?”

I slid off the desk with enough force to send his blotter over the opposite edge. “The word’s not going to give you hives or any of my clingy girlie cooties. You can say it out loud.”

“All right. Enough. Obviously this is a broken merry-go-round. We’re getting nowhere—and you know what? I don’t have the right tools to fix it.”

I cocked a brow. “What are you saying?”

He answered that with scary silence. The still air thickened, adding layers upon itself until it hung over the room like a funeral pall.

At last, I slumped my shoulders. So did he. The sight impacted even the darkest corners of my gut. Watching the man reveal that small sign of defeat . . . It was like the cosmos had reversed the planet’s orbit. It wasn’t natural. Clearly Sebastian agreed—and fought it with a new march across the floor. The air was riddled with metallic and plastic crunches as he decimated more of his fallen electronics.

As soon as he stopped, our stares locked and held.

He’d picked a damn good metaphor for the occasion. We were on a merry-go-round, but the ride was broken. And the longer we tried to talk this out, more things were getting broken.

“Dammit.” The serration in his voice scraped at my heart. “Abbi . . . dammit. I wish the situation were different.” He dropped his arms and curled his hands into fists. “But they aren’t. They just aren’t. Period.”

I rocked backward, unsure of what to say. I went with the only words that made logical sense. “So maybe it’s just time to stop this ride. I want to get off.”

“This isn’t a ride you can just stop, Abbigail.”