“Me too.” And I do. The thought of him leaving now is unsettling. I’ve never had anyone who cared enough to teachme how to chop veggies properly or remind me to put on a coat.
Tell me you have daddy issues without telling me you have daddy issues, Brantley.
I stretch my legs, easing the tightness in my bare calves, and lean back against the wall. “I hope he can hear us. I hope he realizes that he’s not alone.”
Something haunts him, and our night together was triggering. I want to know why. I’m tired of secrets, and once we know Bastian is safe and healthy, I’ll make that known. If we’re all stuck here with this complicated mess of emotions tying us together, we have to understand each other’s boundaries.
“You’re not alone either, you know,” Fi says, her eyes intense.
I swallow heavily. “But I really am, aren’t I? I don’t expect you’ll ever forgive me.” I gesture widely. “This whole situation is just temporary. You’ll go back to Vancouver and make a life for yourself. You’ll be wildly successful, and it won’t include me.”
She gives me a measured look. “Are you so sure?”
“Are you saying you’ll give me another chance?”
“No, but I’m saying we can be friends.” Fi smiles softly. “Vancouver is a big place to be alone, Brantley.”
I don’t say anything because I won’t ever lie to her again, and I don’t want her to know that being her friend would be more painful than never seeing her again. At least when she wasn’t around, I could forget what a colossal mistake I made.
She starts reading again and is just finishing chapter four when we hear the bathroom lock click. She stops midsentence.
“Seb?” she asks softly. “Can I come in?”
Silence.
She stands and turns the brass knob, slowly opening the door with a loud creak.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s not the man I see. Bastian’s curled into a ball on the floor, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and his boxers, his head resting on his arms. His eyes arered-rimmed, staring straight ahead. They don’t register Fi at first, but they slowly focus as she kneels at his side. I wrinkle my nose at the smell and glance at the pile of clothes in the corner, realizing he must have vomited on his pants in the woods.
Empathy hits me right in the heart.
I spent months in his shoes after my accident—emotionally wrecked beyond repair. Looking at Sebastian now, I see myself, and it’s frightening. Between the three of us, he may not be the oldest, but he’s the mature one. He thinks logically, and he always has control. It’s hard to equate this broken man with the one I’ve gotten to know over the past few months. The one who cleaned up my messes. Patched up my hand. Punched me in the face. Kept me from hitting rock bottom.
I always thought it was seeing Fi again that saved me, but I realize now that if he hadn’t taken care of me every time I showed up at the pub, I wouldn’t have had a reason to get up in the morning.
I blow out a breath as the realization hits me.
I wanted to seehim.
All that time, I thought I was just going to the pub to get drunk, but that wasn’t it. I wanted to look into his eyes and feel like someone cared, even if it was tough love.
And he never once let me down.
My throat tightens as I watch Fi run her fingers through Bastian’s hair. He shifts his position and places his head in her lap. The bathroom isn’t very big, so I step over them and grab a cup next to the sink and fill it with water. Then I sit across from them with my legs out so that Sebastian has to place his feet in my lap. His eyes are the bluest shade I’ve ever seen.
“What happened?” I ask quietly. “Was the sex that bad?”
I want to kick myself for the joke. I start to stutter an apology but a smile ticks at the edge of his dry lips.
“I was just…overwhelmed.” His voice is a rasp, like nails on a chalkboard. He squeezes his eyes closed. “Sometimes this happens after I’m intimate with someone, but normally, I wake up alone.” He opens his eyes; they’re tumultuous like an unsettled ocean. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Weak. It’s humiliating.”
The way he won’t look directly at either of us, I can tell there’s more to what happened, but I don’t push it.
I nudge the water toward him. “I used to feel like I had to be the strongest person in the room. I was a hockey player—a tough guy. But it gets to be too much. You can’t carry everything on your own.”
His eyes redden, a tear sliding down his cheek, but he reaches for the water. He pushes himself up to sitting, then takes Fi’s hand and laces their fingers together. Bastian sips the water and his head fall back against the cabinet.
His skin is so pale against his dark hair, which is damp from sweat, but even in his current state, I can’t deny what Fi said: Sebastian Conner is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
