"So," I begin, keeping my voice casual, "Laney mentioned something interesting."
Sebastian makes a noncommittal sound, but I feel his body tense slightly beside me.
"Apparently you threw Harper against a wall in the cafeteria."
His reaction is immediate and telling. His neck and cheeks flush a deep crimson that spreads up to the tips of his ears. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing, and suddenly becomesintensely interested in a piece of grass he's plucked from beside the step.
"I wouldn't say I threw him," he finally answers, twisting the blade between his fingers. "That makes it sound more dramatic than it was."
"What would you call it then?" I press, unable to keep the hint of amusement from my voice.
He sighs, shoulders dropping slightly. "I may have... physically encouraged him to reconsider his word choice."
"By pinning him to a wall."
"It was more of a firm guidance toward a vertical surface," he mutters, not meeting my eyes.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. "And what exactly did Harper say that required this... guidance?"
Sebastian's fingers work faster, shredding the blade of grass into tiny pieces. "He was being disrespectful."
"About?"
His jaw tightens. "About you."
The simple admission sends an unexpected warmth spreading through my chest. "What did he say about me?"
Sebastian hesitates, and I can practically see him editing the conversation in his head. "He implied your emotional reaction to Cheryl's death made you an unfit doctor." He pauses before carefully adding, "And said some… unsavory things about our relationship."
I raise an eyebrow. "That's it? That's what made you lose your cool?"
His ears turn an even deeper shade of red. "There might have been some cruder phrasing involved."
"Which you're not going to repeat."
"No," he says firmly.
A distant tractor rumbles somewhere beyond the paddock. A chicken clucks indignantly from the direction of the main house.
"Dr. Patel had to pull you off him," I state rather than ask.
Sebastian winces. "That part might be accurate."
"In the middle of the cafeteria."
"Not my finest professional moment," he admits, finally looking at me. His expression is a mix of embarrassment and something fiercer, more protective. "But I don't regret it."
I study him, this complicated man who held me through my breakdown, who brought me across state lines to heal, who apparently defended my honor like some old-fashioned knight in a hospital cafeteria.
"So, you're determined to be my hero then?"
Sebastian's mouth quirks up at one corner, that half-smile that never fails to make my heart stumble. "I was going for avenging angel, but hero works too." He gives a small, embarrassed shrug that somehow conveys more than any words could.
The grass he's been fidgeting with is now confetti at his feet. He reaches for another stem, his long fingers working it loose from the ground with careful precision.
"No one's ever defended me like that before," I tell him quietly.
The muscle in his jaw ticks faster. "Harper had no right to say what he did."
