Sebastian follows me into the cabin and sets the bags on the kitchen counter. B immediately starts rifling through them, removing various packages and boxes.
“Thank the baby Jesus. I’m starving.” B yanks out some bread and peanut butter.
Seb goes back for a second round and then locks the door behind him. “The mechanic in town said he can send a tow truck up the road tomorrow,” he says while he takes off his coat and boots. “I left your keys with him.” Seb gives B a disapproving look when he sees him making a mess all over the counter. “Sounds like they’re always pulling people out of ditches around here.”
I stare at the guys, fidgeting nervously between the living room and the kitchen. Guilt is licking at my nerves, ratcheting up my anxiety. How many times have I almost kissed Seb? And then I fucked Brantley, and that feels really wrong for some reason. I’m not with either of them. I didn’t cheat. But myactions still feel shitty. Not to mention, I’m just terrible at keeping secrets.
“Fi, come here,” Seb says, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to him.
Oh my God, he knows.
I swallow and walk over hesitantly.
Is he going to be angry? Upset? Why do I care so much?
I sit, and he reaches for my foot. I yelp at the unexpected contact and try to pull away, but his grip is firm.
He gives me an odd look and then peels the wet sock off my foot. “Are you okay? You seem jumpy. Did something happen while I was gone?”
My throat feels like it’s full of sand, and my heart is pounding frantically against my ribs. This stupid secret is going to kill me. “Uhhh…”
Seb grabs my other foot, places it on his lap, and pulls off my other sock. Then he stands and hangs the soggy garments on some nails on the mantle like they’re Christmas stockings.
I stare at him wide-eyed as he turns around, watching me with narrowed eyes.
“What’s going on, Fi?” His voice is a deep rumble.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I can’t stand it. I might burst if I don’t say something.
“Brantley and I fucked in a barn on the other side of the property and a chicken saw us.” The ridiculous sentence pours from my mouth like word vomit.
There’s a clatter in the kitchen and my head swings around.
Brantley is staring at me, his mouth open in shock. My gaze drops to the counter where the butter knife landed, and he carefully sets the half-made sandwich onto the plate in front of him, his eyes snapping fearfully to Seb’s. “Please don’t hit me again.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SEBASTIAN
My brain and my heart split in different directions.
I stare at Fi’s panicked face. Her adorable, freckled nose is scrunched up, and her body is tense like it’s bracing for impact.
I look at Michaels. His eyes are huge and a little sad, which confuses the hell out of me. I’ve never really thought of him as competition because I never really thought Fi and I would ever be anything significant.
And he and Fiona have a history. How can I compete with that?
But I’ve been thinking about her all day. The small ways she touches me and how it makes me feel safe—like I matter. The comfort she offers so freely. And I’m so tired of being alone. I’ve been craving her ever since our moment in the loft. Being in Fi’s proximity has always felt different. I feel it in my bones. Her gentle touches light my skin on fire. Her floral scent is a drug. She’s the first person who’s evoked that visceral response—both physically and emotionally. I’m so broken in so many ways, but she’s made me feel seen.
It’s a frightening realization. I swallow hard.
Maybe I’ve wanted a chance with Fi all along—maybe I was just hiding behind the fact that she’s Charlie’s best friend.
And while Stitch is a fuck-up by society’s standards, over the last couple days, I’ve seen his layers. He’s disarmingly charming, and when he wants to be, he’s fiercely protective.
And has the body of a hockey player, albeit a retired one.
