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I can see the shape of his face now, the strong jaw and sleek cheekbones. Good god, he’s handsome. A fact Ialready know, but somehow the uncovering of it makes my mouth dry. I can’t look away from his lips, and I hear my own quiet gasp when his tongue peeks out to lick them.
“Bee,” he says, his voice thick. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter on either side of my thighs. That I have this effect on him is dizzying. I could get drunk off it.
The space between us sizzles. If we touched, I’d probably burst into flames.
I cup his cheeks. His beard is softer than I expected beneath them. I tentatively guide my hands down, my nails catching against the skin, scratching a little. I open my mouth, ready to apologize, but then his breath hitches, and my gaze snaps up. His eyes close briefly at the sensation. Oh. He likes that.
A thought bursts forth unbidden, of what his beard would feel like against the soft skin of my inner thighs, and a blush heats my cheeks.
Stilling my hands, I note how close we’ve become, noses almost touching, and his lips within reach of my own.
If he was anyone else, I’d kiss him. But he isn’t anyone else. He’s Sebastian. My brother’s best friend. My housemate. I want him, but I don’t know that I can give him what he wants. I barely know what I want for my future right now. Everything comes down to this book, and I know myself: I could easily get so distracted by him that I make no progress at all, but that’s not why I came home.
Not to mention, this house means everything to Sebastian. What happens if we cross that line and it doesn’t work out? I don’t have enough left in my savings to pay half themortgage and rent somewhere else, and if we had to sell it, then Sebastian would be back to square one.
There’s something between us, even I can’t deny that, but it’s not a step I’ll take lightly. I’m still busy panicking over the last time I acted on impulse. I won’t do that to Sebastian. I can’t.
Pressing my hand to his chest—oh god, he’s so soft and warm—I push him away and slip off the counter, keeping my head down.
“Thanks for the lesson,” I say.
10
SEBASTIAN
Bee startsto leave her room.
I begin finding her around the house, feet under her, shoulders curled over her manuscript, lips pursed. Still in those damn shorts, although the sweater changes—a rainbow of bright colors I’ve always associated with her—and the same look of determination.
I’ve learned that the trick to getting Bee to stop running away from me is to bring food. It didn’t take long to notice how often she forgot to eat when she was focused.
Is it completely caveman of me to be proud of providing for her?
“It’s been a few weeks. I think you can unpack now.”
Bee’s attention snaps to the chicken sandwich I’ve placed beside her, and she answers quickly before taking a bite. “I have. That’s my library.”
After counting five packing boxes, the label makes sense. She could open a shop with that many books. “Storing them for the winter?”
She swallows around a smile. “Something like that.”
I park myself on her bed before she can ask me to leave.
It’s not exactly a foolproof plan, because I’m then tortured by her soft, pleased moans as she eats. But as long as I stay where I am, I can focus on keeping crumbs off her sheets and not on the fact that I want to throw her down on them.
Because I’m not here for that.
I’ve done my time discovering who I am and learning how good it feels to own it, sometimes with a finger in the air. There is joy in living loud. It’s about knowing who you are and being the first to love yourself unconditionally.
I want that for Bee. I can’t think of anyone who deserves that feeling more.
Bee asked me to help her, so that’s what I’m doing. Waving the chapters she gave me with a flourish, I say, “I know I’m not supposed to say anything, but am I allowed to tell you I’ve finished, at least?”
Bee turns and makes a grabby hand for the papers.
“Now, I’ll be honest. I haven’t voluntarily read a book since school, so I don’t know how much weight my opinion carries here, but I liked it.”
What I get in return is a disbelieving stare.
