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I nod. It’s very cool.
“All right, spill. What’s happening with Sebastian?”
Where do I start? “It’s complicated.”
“That describes every relationship I’ve ever had. My last girlfriend traveled for work, and between her love bombing me when she was in town and days of no messages when she was away, it took me way too long to realize the only thing ‘complicated’ about it was why I was still seeing her.” When Cassie catches my stricken expression, she rushes to add, “Not that I’m saying you and Sebastian shouldn’t be, you know, whatever you are.”
I drop my head to my hands, groaning. “I wish I knew. To be honest, I’m trying not to think about it. I came back for the book, and I’m worried I’m rushing things. I mean, I already jumped into buying a house. I can’t let Sebastianthink this is serious if I’m having doubts. It would break his heart.”
“He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle himself.”
“I know he can, but… I wonder how many times in his life he’s actually had anyone truly looking out for him. The way he looks at me, I think he’s going to say it, but he never does. I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t pretend I’m ready when I’m not.”
“You’re both so busy protecting each other, you better be careful not to both get hurt.”
It might be too late for that. “I’m trying.”
Emerson is on the last few slats when a familiar truck pulls into the driveway. My heart picks up, suddenly racing.
Maybe surprising Sebastian with this was the wrong idea.
“Hey, Cassie.”
She gives him a little wave. “Welcome home. We’ve been busy.”
“Have you? Because from here, it looks as though he’s doing all the work.”
Cassie flips him off. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughs, and I want to kiss the breath from his lungs.
Emerson is delayed from leaving when Sebastian starts picking his brain about repainting the laundry room, and the whole thing ends with Emerson passing over a business card and the promise to return in a week.
Cassie hands back the last chapter. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What are you going to call it?”
My impending doom.
“It doesn’t have a title yet. I’m awful at coming up with them.”
“Have you read this?” Cassie asks when Sebastian returns to the porch.
“I have,” he replies, looking so proud I have to fight off a full-body shiver. “It’s excellent.”
“You’re biased,” I say, because it’s true, but also, I need him to stop before I spontaneously combust.
“When it comes to you, always.”
Sebastian pats the counter. “Sit with me.”
I don’t move.
After a beat, he quirks a brow, and I wave my hands at my waist, waiting. It’s worth it to watch him lick his lips as he smiles. Slowly, he steps up to me, curling his hands firmly around me before lifting me onto the counter.
I whisper my thanks into his mouth.
The dirty blanket hog is always clutching the comforter to his chest like I used to hug my old bear, Humphrey. I usually get him back by slipping off my socks and pressing my freezing feet to his calves. It doesn’t take long to get the blankets back then.
Sebastian is a study in distraction. We’ve spent most of today in bed, or to be completely factual, in the bed, the shower, the hallway, and the couch.
Now that we’ve worked up an appetite, he’s cooking in only a pair of gray sweatpants, and it’s a good thing I don’t have to contribute, because I’m already busy once again drinking in his tattoos.
