Page 73 of Trust Fund Baby

Roxie tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a teasing half-smile. “College, huh? I should’ve guessed. You two look like you would’ve gotten in a lot of trouble together.”

Nate chuckled, clearly liking the banter. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she said, leaning in just a fraction, enough to make the air between them feel charged.

My chest tightened as I watched her smile at Nate in a way that she hadn’t done to me since the Hamptons. Heat rose in my cheeks, and my jaw clenched instinctively. I could see the way Nate was grinning at her, like he was the luckiest man in the world.

“And what do you do?” Roxie asked, her voice softening, a playful sparkle in her eyes.

“I’m in commercial real estate. Family business that I’m working on taking over.”

My fist clenched around my glass. The cool water did nothing to dampen the heat crawling up my neck. Roxie’s laugh, soft and musical, slid through the bar like smoke, wrapping around Nate instead of me.

“Oh, so you’re the heir type too?” she teased lightly, letting the words hang in the air.

Every word she spoke to Nate felt like a punch in the gut. I tried to reason with myself.

It’s nothing. She’s just being polite. Just having fun.

But I knew the truth. She was letting herself enjoy this attention, but really, she was just doing it to get to me. To hurt me. She knew it would make me jealous. I guess I deserved a taste of my own medicine. She’d always enjoyed winding me up. Just like she was now.

“I … uh,” I muttered, standing abruptly. “Excuse me.”

Before Roxie or Nate could react, I pushed past the nearest couple of barstools and headed to the bathroom in the back of the bar, slamming the door behind me.

I leaned against the cool tiles, heart hammering, trying to slow my breathing. The muffled laughter and clinking glasses from the bar pressed against the door, a reminder that Roxie and Nate were still out there. I ran a hand through my hair, jaw tight, every nerve screaming at me to storm back out and stake my claim.

But I didn’t. Not yet. Not like this.

Instead, I closed my eyes and let the silence of the bathroom swallow me, forcing myself to remember one thing: Roxie King deserved better than I had been in the past.

And this was my opportunity to show her who I was now.

27

Roxie

I watched Sebastian’s broad shoulders cut through the crowd as he walked away, and something in me tightened. Every sensible part of my brain screamed to let him go—that nothing good ever came from following Sebastian Whittaker. Every part of my past with him was proof of that. Not when I was seventeen. Not now.

And yet, my body had other plans.

The way he carried himself, with that dark intensity simmering just under his skin, was magnetic. No one else in this bar, maybe in this entire city, pulled me in like that. My fingers curled around my glass as if I could anchor myself here, but before I realized what I was doing, I was up off my seat and heading after him without a single word to Nate. Past the laughing clusters of people, past Hallie and James’s little bubble they’d claimed for just the two of them. Toward the hallway where he’d disappeared.

When I reached the bathroom door, it was locked, and soft light spilled out from underneath. My pulse was a runaway train, a roaring engine in my ears. I really should have turned around. I should have given him the chance to leave. Instead, I reached out and hesitantly knocked on the heavy, wooden door.

“Occupied,” Sebastian’s voice called out, low and rough through the wood.

I felt a lump form in my throat. I almost walked away, but the words escaped before I could prevent them. “It’s me.”

No response.

Then the latch clicked, and the door cracked open.

Framed by the dim bathroom light, Sebastian surveyed me. He stood in the doorway, preventing me from entering, with a blank look on his face.

“Something on your mind, Rox?” he asked, and for once his voice lacked its usual cocky edge.

“This was a bad idea,” I muttered, not really talking to him.