We stand like that for a long moment, breathing together, my shirt riding up my thighs, his jeans still hanging dangerously low on his hips. It should be awkward, this spontaneous embrace in my plant-filled living room. Instead, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
"What's the hug for?" Sebastian's voices vibrates through his chest into my cheek.
I lift my head to look up at him, not breaking the circle of our arms. His eyes are questioning, but there's a softness there. This is different. This is Sebastian Walker without armor, without walls, without the careful control he wears like a second skin.
"Just because," I say simply. The words feel inadequate for the tangle of emotions behind them, but they're honest. There's no strategic reason for this embrace. Just a woman holding a man who needed to be held, maybe for longer than he'd admit.
Our eyes lock, and something shifts in the air between us. The comfortable warmth of shared vulnerability heats into something more familiar but no less powerful. His gaze drops to my mouth, and the hand at my nape slides upward, fingers threading through my tangled curls. The slight pressure and gentle tug against my scalp, sends a shiver down my spine.
"Just because," he repeats, the words barely more than a whisper. "I'm not used to just because."
I believe him. This man lives in a world of cause and effect, of carefully calculated decisions and precise movements. Just because probably hasn't existed in his vocabulary since he was that boy trying to fix a fence to prove himself.
"Maybe you should get used to it." My hands slide from his back to his chest, palms flat against warm skin and solid muscle. "I'm full of just becauses."
His lips curve. "I'm beginning to see that."
The hand at my back drifts lower, fingers skimming the curve of my spine through the thin fabric of the shirt. The touch is light but deliberate, awakening nerve endings all the way down to where his hand finally settles at the small of my back. He digs his fingers in, drawing me closer until our hips align. The hard length of him is evident against my stomach, a reminder that we're both still half-dressed.
My breath catches and the hand in my hair tightens, tilting my head back further as he leans down. But instead of claiming my mouth, his lips brush against my jaw, then lower, pressing hot kisses along the column of my throat.
"Sebastian," I breathe, palms sliding up to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
"I love how you say my name," he murmurs against my neck, his breath a caress that makes my knees weak. "Like a prayer and a curse in the same fucking breath."
His teeth graze the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, then lower to where he’d marked me. My eyes flutter closed as pleasure spirals outward from that simple touch. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him closer while his mouth works magic against my skin.
"The things I'm going to do to you," he promises in a rough whisper. "The ways I'm going to make you say my name again."
My body is already responding; melting against him, seeking more contact, more pressure, more… everything. His hand slips beneath the hem of my shirt, finding the bare skin at the small of my back, and I gasp at the contact.
Just as his lips brush the shell of my ear and his fingers smooth over the curve of my ass, a sharp knock at the door shatters the moment.
We freeze in perfect, comical unison. Sebastian's breath is hot against my neck, his hand still splayed possessively on my backside, mine still buried in his hair. For a suspended second, I consider ignoring it. Let them knock. Let the world burn if it means Sebastian's mouth continues its journey down my body.
"Food's here," I whisper, the words barely making it past my suddenly dry throat.
Dropping his forehead to my shoulder, his groan of frustration vibrates against my skin.
"Timing’s impeccable," he mutters.
When he lifts his head, his eyes are still dark with desire, but a rueful smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "To be continued," he says, the words somewhere between a promise and a threat.
"To be continued."
Chapter 23
Sebastian
Monday morning greets me with annoyingly perfect weather, the kind that makes patients cancel appointments to enjoy the sunshine. I stride across the hospital parking lot, steps lighter than they've been in months despite the weight of my messenger bag. My mind refuses to focus on the day ahead, instead replaying every moment of the weekend with Mia—her laughter as I fumbled with her ancient coffee maker, the brush of her curls against my chest as she fell asleep during that documentary, the heat in her eyes when my hand slid up her thigh at breakfast yesterday. Forty-eight hours without a single medical emergency, yet somehow the most intense weekend of my life.
The sliding glass doors of Sierra Mercy's main entrance whoosh open, hospital scent hitting me like a bucket of reality. Here I’m Dr. Walker, not Sebastian. Not the man who spent Saturday night tracing ice cubes down a redhead's body until she trembled.
"Well, well, look who finally emerged from his cave."
I freeze, one foot over the threshold. Fuck. Arjun materializes from behind a support column, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other, and that knowing smirk I've wanted to punch off his face since medical school.
"Morning," I reply, deliberately clipped, already walking toward the elevators.
