S*XY BILLIONAIRE BOYS CLUB 1: SEBASTIAN

Rory

I was so engrossed in my term paper that I barely noticed when the barista called my name. Startled, I sprang up from my seat and navigated through the bustling coffee shop crowd. "Annie Position," the barista called out again. I couldn't help but chuckle at my choice of a fake name—until it seemed like the entire city had gathered and heard it.

"Matcha Frappuccino," she announced as I approached the counter to claim my drink. "Right here," I replied, my cheeks burning from the unexpected attention my clever alias had garnered. The barista flashed me a playful wink. "Cute," she remarked. All I managed was a half-hearted "Ha." I turned to make my escape from the crowd, but fate had other plans.

Before I knew it, my ridiculous pseudonym was no longer the center of attention. "Shit!" I cursed as my Frappuccino collided with the pristine surface of a white button-down shirt. "Damn it," the guy exclaimed, his arms outstretched, his eyes locked on the slow, green ooze creeping down his shirt. "I'm so sorry!" I stammered, desperate to make amends for my careless twirl that had led to this mishap.

His eyes met mine after I made a frantic attempt to toss the offending drink into the trash and snatched a handful of napkins. His hand covered mine, and his blue eyes shimmered like a tropical sea beneath the sun. My thoughts raced, and I tried to suppress the impending embarrassment that seemed inevitable.

This man was the most attractive person I'd ever laid eyes on, even compared to Hollywood heartthrobs. "I've got it," he reassured me, a captivating smile gracing his lips. Suddenly, a female voice interrupted our moment, dripping with annoyance. "Go!" she waved me away, making it clear that I had already caused enough trouble.

I glanced at her. "Let me at least do something," I offered, but she fixed me with a piercing gaze, her green eyes narrowing and her mauve lips pursed in irritation. Folding her arms, she challenged me with an arched eyebrow. "Do something?" she questioned, her tone laced with skepticism. "Perhaps you'd like to lick your silly drink off his chest?"

The guy, who had been on the receiving end of my beverage mishap, chimed in with a half-amused, half-authoritative tone, addressing the woman. "Go order her another one," he suggested, trying to defuse the situation. "You don't have to boss your girl around because of my clumsy mistake."

"She's not my girl," he stated, shooting a withering look at the woman, and then he turned his intense gaze on me. "So, what's the drink that gets to grace my wardrobe today?"

I was utterly bewildered. "What's the drink?" the woman snapped, her irritation palpable. Who were these two? Some power-couple from the corporate world, dressed and acting like they owned San Francisco?

"Matcha Frap," I hurriedly replied, eager to move past this bizarre encounter and return to the safety of my computer, waiting for them to call my real name this time.

"Name?" she asked, her arms folded, understandably irritated.

"Um, right, it's—" I began.

"Any Position," the man interjected in the same commanding tone he'd used earlier with his friend. "Isn't that what they called before you turned my suit green?"

"Annie," I managed to say, forcing a smile even though my cheeks felt like they were on fire from embarrassment.

"Nice name," he replied, dabbing at the stained shirt.

"Are you naturally friendly to strangers who ruin your wardrobe but not so kind to your friends?" I gestured towards the blonde with mauve lips who was still giving me an icy glare from the line.

"I'm feeling surprisingly forgiving for someone who seems to be having a rough day," he continued, his turquoise-blue eyes making my heart race.

"It's kind of you to assume that," I replied with a half-smile. "And what about your friend? Why's she stuck with my mess?"

"Long story," he said with a smile. "She'll get over it, trust me."

"Well, I am sorry about this," I sighed, feeling a mix of relief and awkwardness. "I'll just go wait over there." I pointed towards my laptop. "I have, like, five minutes at most to submit my essay now."

"That's all the more reason why my friend," he said, shifting his gaze between the woman and me, "is going to place your order."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Thanks again." He was impossibly good-looking, and there was no way I was going to look back at him or take my eyes off my computer screen, where the black-haired god had given the coffee shop a major upgrade in the looks department when he walked in.

I hit the "send" button on my essay with just a minute to spare and waited for the satisfying swoosh sound in my email. Finally, I could collapse back into the booth, my nerves on edge from the whirlwind of events. By the time I collected myself, my attempt at a humorous alias was called again, and the mysterious couple had vanished without a trace.

Thank goodness the coffee shop was still buzzing with activity, but I was ready to make my exit. I needed to head back to my hotel room to unwind. I had plans to meet up with some old high school friends who lived in the area tonight, and right now, a drink—or maybe ten, or twenty—sounded like a great idea. Then again, maybe not. Tomorrow was my cousin's wedding, and I couldn't afford to be hungover while enduring the superficial ceremony I was obligated to attend on behalf of both myself and my dad. He definitely owed me for this. Big time.

I adjusted the back strap of my heels on my left foot, trying to alleviate the discomfort caused by the new stilettos I had reluctantly chosen for this weekend. They were meant to match the burgundy dress I'd be wearing to the wedding, and I had decided to break them in tonight. Comfort clearly wasn't part of the deal with these pricey shoes, which I shouldn't have let the sales associate talk me into buying.

With one last look at my strapless bandage dress, I was ready to go. I attempted to pull my natural waves into a more put-together look, but it was futile. "Forget it. It's not like I'm out here to impress anyone tonight," I chuckled at the thought. Time to move on to part one of my San Francisco trip—hanging out at a rooftop club with friends I hadn't seen since high school.

The Uber dropped me off in front of an exceptionally posh hotel, brilliantly illuminated and exuding an aura of wealth and influence from its grand entrance. Flags from around the world hung proudly above the doorway, and the lineup of luxury cars made my modest Uber choice seem entirely out of place. "What in the world?" I muttered to myself.

"You might run into a celebrity," the Uber driver commented with a wink.

"Good grief," I replied as I stepped out of the car. I navigated through the bustling crowd and the opulence that surrounded me, determined to find my friends as quickly as possible.

"Aurora Taylor," I told the concierge, following Ash's instructions for when I arrived. "Miss Taylor," he acknowledged, shuffling through some papers. "Will you be staying with us tonight?"

"I'm here to meet friends at a rooftop lounge," I replied, keeping my voice low.

He reached for a pen to scroll through a screen in front of him. "I see," he said, then beckoned someone named Richard over. "Please, escort Miss Taylor to her party on the top."

As the elevator doors whisked me away to my destination, I couldn't help but feel thankful for at least having chosen expensive heels. The atmosphere on the rooftop was electric, but clearly tailored to a more affluent clientele. I followed Richard to the outdoor area, where my name was called, and I finally released the breath I'd been holding since I followed him to the elevator.

"Hey," I greeted the three friends I hadn't seen since graduation night. "Aurora Taylor."

Gabby laughed and enveloped me in a warm hug. "You look absolutely fabulous."

Engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions, I found myself amidst a long-awaited reunion with my girlfriends. It had been an agonizing six years since we last crossed paths, and the anticipation radiated through the air as we exchanged warm greetings. Ash, beaming with pride, introduced her husband Brent, a tall man with a prematurely receding hairline. The spotlight then shifted to Gabby, who playfully showcased her new flame, Jon. A blond man, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin, stood rigidly by her side. Attempting to alleviate the tension, I offered a supportive smile, acknowledging his discomfort.

Feeling the need to ease myself into the vibrant atmosphere, I quipped about requiring a drink to process the surroundings. Mir, ever the generous soul, insisted on treating me to a drink, reminiscing about the passage of time and our cherished bond. However, I couldn't help but notice a transformation in Mir's persona. The shy and sweet Valedictorian I once knew had evolved into an assertive and confident woman.

Curiosity piqued, I playfully inquired about Mir's current romantic partner. Laughter filled the air as my friends teased me, diverting my attention from the conversation between Brent and Jon. Engrossed in catching up, the girls and I retreated to our own little world, relishing the opportunity to reconnect after all these years.

As the night progressed, Mir revealed the burdens of being a divorced doctor, burdened by student loans that seemed to extend into eternity. The opulent surroundings of the rooftop venue juxtaposed against her financial struggles, leaving me perplexed as to why she would choose such a lavish setting. Mir's enigmatic grin hinted at the conference she had attended earlier that day, and I couldn't help but wonder about the hidden motivations behind her choice.

The atmosphere grew heavy as the topic shifted to my mother's passing two years ago. Ash, clearly uncomfortable, offered her condolences, prompting a wave of emotions to wash over me. Questions about my father's well-being, my relationship status, and my presence in San Francisco came pouring in, overwhelming me with their intensity. Seeking solace, I smiled and confessed that I had been summoned to my cousin's wedding, a gesture of gratitude towards the family who had supported us financially during my mother's illness.

Gabby empathetically sighed, acknowledging the challenges of being surrounded by unfamiliar faces in such situations. While her words resonated, I couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the group. Was it them who had changed, or was it me? Perhaps the ten-year reunion was a breeding ground for people trying to fit into roles they had outgrown.

Summoning my courage, I shared my own journey, revealing the sacrifices I had made to care for my mother, and the uncertainties that lay ahead. The response was mixed, as my friends seemed disinterested in my lackluster plans. The conversation took an unexpected turn, delving into a realm of explicit discussions about orgasms, failed relationships, and the allure of any male specimen that caught our attention. It was as if Brent and Jon had become invisible, fading into the background.

Grateful for the shift in atmosphere, I silently thanked the changing environment for allowing me a moment of respite from the growing discomfort.

As the music crescendoed and the sun dipped below the horizon, my inebriated friends enthusiastically threw themselves onto the dance floor. Sensing that I was stuck amidst their romantic entanglements, I gracefully excused myself, not quite ready to depart from the breathtaking views that surrounded me. Stepping away from the boisterous crowd, I discovered a slice of heaven on the rooftop, offering me an unparalleled vista.

My eyes widened in awe as I beheld the mesmerizing sight before me. The city lights twinkled like a million stars, illuminating the urban landscape in a way that no painting or photograph could capture. It was a sensory experience, feeling the energy of the city and witnessing its grandeur firsthand. In that moment, I yearned to translate this magic onto canvas, to create a painting that would transport others into this enchanting realm.

Lost in my thoughts, a smooth voice interrupted my reverie. Startled, I turned to my right, my drink perilously sloshing in my hand, only to find myself face-to-face with the captivating stranger from the coffee shop earlier. My left ankle weakened, almost causing me to lose my balance, but he swiftly caught my arm, preventing me from stumbling.

Summoning my wits, I chuckled nervously, the overflow of alcohol adding a touch of boldness to my words. "Yeah," I replied, my voice betraying my astonishment. "I guess we do have a bit of a history, don't we?" His gaze flickered down to the cosmopolitan in my hand, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I must admit, pink isn't my color."

The air crackled with a charged energy as he studied my face. My mind raced, trying to find the right words to engage in conversation with this stunning individual. "So, what brings you here tonight?" I asked, attempting to mask my confusion.

He raised an eyebrow, his turquoise eyes sparkling. "Work," he responded, his smile widening. "And did you successfully complete the task I assigned you earlier?"

Surprised by his impeccable memory, I searched for a suitable response. "I did, actually. Thanks for asking." A mixture of curiosity and intrigue swirled within me. Why was this captivating stranger taking an interest in me?

His lips twisted playfully. "How could I forget? The moment I saw you tonight, I couldn't help but think about the girl known as Any Position."

My eyes narrowed, a hint of skepticism coloring my gaze. I couldn't deny the magnetic pull between us, but caution urged me to tread carefully. "And you, Mr...?" I prompted, silently challenging him to reveal more about himself.

His eyes glistened with mischief, and a thrill coursed through my veins. "I am here on business," he admitted, his voice tinged with intrigue. "And perhaps, I was hoping to have a little fun during my trip."

My body tingled with electric anticipation, his irresistible charm and allure enveloping me. Yet, I resolutely reminded myself that I would not succumb to becoming a home wrecker, especially after innocently meeting friends at a bar. I needed to maintain my composure, even if the alcohol blurred my judgment.

A smile played on my lips as I responded, my voice laced with regret. "I'm afraid I can't assist you in that endeavor."

He sighed softly, his voice dropping to a seductive timbre. "What a shame. I was hoping to find the one person not under the influence, someone with whom I could enjoy this breathtaking view."

I returned his smile, determined to preserve my outward confidence, even in the face of this dangerously attractive man. Goodness, he was undeniably handsome. The shadow of stubble along his jaw only accentuated the perfection of his chiseled features. His tousled, jet-black hair hinted at a hint of rebellion, while his piercing eyes seemed to peer into the depths of my soul. Glancing at his muscular frame, emphasized by the snug ribbed sweater he wore, my dormant femininity stirred awake, awakening a desire that I had long suppressed.

"Yes," I sighed, attempting to gather my thoughts while desperately wishing for a refreshing glass of water to clear the haze of alcohol from my mind. "The views truly are breathtaking," he remarked, his gaze fixed on the cityscape. "May I inquire as to why you've chosen to escape the company of the women I observed you with earlier?"

"Playing the role of a spy, are we?" I playfully teased, my curiosity piqued by his enigmatic presence. He moistened his lips, a seductive smile spreading across his face, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "If appreciating a beautiful woman amidst the chaotic atmosphere of this late-night revelry qualifies as spying, then I suppose I've become quite the spy."

"Toxic atmosphere?" I chuckled, amused by his choice of words. "And who exactly are you, anyway?" He took a sip from his glass, which I assumed to be filled with scotch. "A man who would rather not be here this weekend," he confessed, his gaze scanning the opulent rooftop surroundings. "I have zero interest in indulging in the senseless conference I was coerced into attending today, even with the perks that accompany it."

Leaning against the ledge, I allowed the crisp air to continue clearing my thoughts as I engaged in conversation with this captivating mystery man. "So, I assume that means you were also subjected to the medical conference or whatever the hell my friend Mir called it? Shame you're not a woman, because the keynote speaker seemed to have made the entire week's worth of conferences bearable, or so I've heard."

He chuckled, his laughter a melody that danced through the air. "Is that so? I found the speaker to be utterly dull and mind-numbingly boring." "So, you're a doctor then?" I asked, his intense gaze causing a flicker of anticipation to dance within me. "I'm beginning to question my love for that particular profession after today."

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, taken aback by his statement. "I'm just messing with you," he laughed, signaling for a waiter to approach our table. "Can we get..." he glanced at me, his expression inquisitive. "What are you having? The medical group hosting this extravaganza is footing the bill."

"Water," I stated simply, my desire for clarity and sobriety outweighing any desire for another alcoholic indulgence. "Extravaganza?" he repeated, a lighthearted twinkle in his eyes. "And water?" His eyes crinkled with amusement. "Believe me, the group responsible for organizing this event can afford it."

"I'm not being modest," I smiled at the waiter, grateful for the respite from the intensity of our conversation. "I'll have water, please." "Water for the lovely lady, and another scotch for me," he instructed the waiter, who bowed and retreated, leaving Mr. Gorgeous and me to resume our discussion.

"So, am I to assume that I won't receive a name other than Annie?" he asked, studying me intently. "Why don't we simply stick with Annie?" I suggested with a smile. "Let's face it; we're complete strangers, and I highly doubt this interaction will progress beyond venting about this ostentatious party we find ourselves in."

"Alright, no names then," he agreed, his gaze never leaving mine. "But what if this conversation were to progress beyond our shared disdain for this pretentious gathering?" Ah, there it was. He wasn't here for idle chit-chat. Why did I even entertain the notion? He was undeniably attractive, an arrogant doctor who, like my friends, was likely scouting for a potential connection. I was now clear-headed enough to recognize the superficiality of my own desires, driven solely by his physical appearance.

"I'm going to have to decline that offer," I responded, a smile playing on my lips as I took a sip of water. "And there goes my self-esteem," he mockingly placed a hand over his heart. "I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding numerous women up here who would gladly accept that offer."

"I'm not interested in any of the women up here," he admitted with a charming smile. "As I mentioned, I'm just here, and I've been keeping an eye on you tonight because you're the most attractive woman in the club."

While I appreciated the compliment, I gently patted his arm, realizing that this guy was clearly in excellent shape. "Thanks, but I really should be heading out."

He chuckled and stood. "Let me call for your ride."

I resisted the urge to say that I had an Uber on the way and instead pulled out my phone to confirm the ride request. I needed to get out of there before I made a more significant mistake with this guy than just spilling a drink on him earlier.

"Then I guess you're leaving me to the wolves," he said, his lips forming an irresistibly handsome frown.

I hadn't been intimate with anyone in over a year, so the idea of a one-night stand with a stranger, no strings attached, didn't seem like it would send me straight to hell, right? He leaned in, and his fingers traced down my arms. "It's been nice seeing you. I only wish it could have been more than small talk." His lips grazed my ear as he whispered, and I found myself momentarily unable to respond. His cologne, his warm breath on my neck, and that devilish grin left me paralyzed. Then he left me standing on the balcony, cursing myself for always playing it safe and being too proper all the time.

For a moment, I wanted to chase after him and tell him that I was open to whatever he had in mind. We were both strangers from out of town, and we'd never see each other again. A few more drinks, and I wouldn't have cared about the consequences. I'd never been one to be approached by guys, but here I was, at the top of the city with the most handsome man I'd ever encountered, and I'd just turned him down?

I took a step in the direction he'd gone, but then my phone buzzed with a text from my dad.

Dad: Hey, kiddo. You never called. I hope everything is well and you had a good visit with your friends today. Don't go too wild.

I smiled at my dad's message. It brought me back to my senses. Here I was, on the verge of hooking up with a guy I barely knew because he was attractive, and my meetup with friends had been a disappointment. I had no idea where the hell the girls or their men were at this point, and I had to attend that wedding tomorrow. This reunion felt like a complete waste of time, and I almost threw away the entire reason I'd come up here just because some good-looking guy wanted more than friendship for the night.

Rory: Yep. Heading back to my room now. I'll text you tomorrow after the wedding. See you on Sunday night. :)

Dad: Love you, kid.

With my dad's message, I regained my sense of responsibility and decided to head back to my room, leaving behind the temptation of the handsome stranger and the allure of a reckless night.