Page 12 of Bid For Me

CHAPTER SEVEN

Elle

I’m incrediblygrumpy when I wake up the next day. More so when I stumble to the fridge and am greeted by the makings for smoked salmon blinis and the bottle of champagne I chilled, in eager anticipation of this brand new dawn.

So I wanted to celebrate the morning after, sue me.

Now, the only thing I’ve got to celebrate is having a liquid breakfast before ten AM, as I pop the cork and swig more than a little from the bottle.

Fucking Sebastian.

Why couldn’t my brother’s best friend just fuck me and do us all a favour? He’s notorious for one night stands, and that was exactly what I was hoping for. One night. One amazing, kink-filled night where my sexual partner wouldn’t treat me with kid gloves and try to give me hearts and flowers.

Fuck him.

Fuck his two million pound bid.

No pussy is worth that – not even mine.

I groan when my phone beeps knowing that it’ll be Candy texting to see how last night went. How do I even beginto explain to her what went down. Or whatdidn’tgo down, depending on how you look at it.

But when I glance at my phone I see the message isn’t from Candy at all, but from Seb.

Fucker. I forgot he got my number from Aiden a couple of years back and I’d saved his contact in case of emergencies when my brother was being almost as big of a dick as he was to Candy.

Seb

Meet me for breakfast. We need to talk.

I snap a selfie of me drinking from the champagne bottle and send my reply:

Already had breakfast, thanks.

Before immediately regretting it.

Nice move, Elle. Really classy.I sigh. That’ll be Sebastian. Always bringing out the worst in me.

Seb

Don’t get rid of that bottle when it’s empty, I can think of another use for it…

Ugh what a cad. I don’t deign to reply, but I do immediately discard my drink. It hurts, but I pour the entire contents of the bottle down the drain – goodbye golden bubbles of happiness – the small mercy is that this was only a relatively cheap bottle ofchampagne, at a couple of hundred pounds for the bottle, versus something that cost thousands.

The whole idea was silly anyway. Having a special breakfast and champagne to mark my first morning as not being a virgin anymore. I sigh and huff at my own ridiculousness.

I’m just contemplating whether I can face the smoked salmon, when my phone buzzes again.

Seb

Meet me for a real breakfast.

Delete that photo.

Seb

Meet me for breakfast and I will.

Scouts’ honour