He let his magic sweep out over the alley—
And Lord Fine made a strangled noise next to him.
Sebastian lunged for Lord Fine before the other man could hit the ground.
“Oof,” he said inelegantly, as he successfully caught Lord Fine around the ribs but staggered under the sudden deadweight. He scrambled to stop the flow of his own magic as he simultaneously tried to pull Lord Fine back to his feet.
A miscalculation. It was like yanking the tug-of-war rope just as the other side suddenly lets go. Lord Fine regained control of his muscles and pushed himself just as Sebastian pulled him, and their combined strength sent the two of them stumbling like drunks.
Sebastian’s back hit the alley wall, his breath leaving him in a rush just as Lord Fine’s back smacked into Sebastian’s chest. There were only three, maybe four inches of height difference between them, but Lord Fine was heavier than he looked, a solid mass flattening Sebastian against the wall.
“Ugh.” Lord Fine’s huff sounded more annoyed than hurt. “Is this the part where you insufferably say I told you so?”
“I’d have to be able to breathe first.” It wasn’t so bad, though, really. Lord Fine was warm and his weight kind of comforting. The bare skin of the back of his neck was under Sebastian’s nose, and with every breath he caught masculine soap layered on skin.
“I suppose I’m crushing you terribly, aren’t I?” There was a pause, then Lord Fine cleared his throat. “I can’t free your lungs if your arms are still around me.”
Oops. Sebastian quickly let go.
Lord Fine straightened up, smoothing his suit with a distracted swipe as he turned toward Sebastian. He hadn’t stepped away, and they were still very close, close enough Sebastian had to tilt his head back to keep their eyes aligned.
Lord Fine’s gaze darted over Sebastian’s face. “I suppose I owe you another apology.”
A tiny smile formed on Sebastian’s lips. “You keep racking up that tally.”
Lord Fine snorted. He still hadn’t stepped away, which kept Sebastian caught between him and the wall. The market crowd was muted in the distance, the only sound in the alley their quiet breaths and Sebastian’s own pulse in his ears, which for some reason was thumping too loudly.
Lord Fine was eying him almost like he could hear Sebastian’s heart. “I’m the one who didn’t listen, yet you’re the one who ended up against the filthy alley wall.”
“It’s not filthy. A little bit dirty, and London’s worse.”
“Semantics, and how dare you.”
This close, Sebastian was still aware of body heat and the scent of Lord Fine’s shaving soap. His usual sneer had eased from his lips; in fact, he had an amused, almost soft smile, like he knew he was being teased and didn’t mind, and very suddenly, Sebastian wanted to kiss him.
Ohno.
Sebastian swallowed. Lord Fine’s gaze dropped to his throat, where his tie suddenly felt too tight and his skin too hot beneath his shirt collar.
You can’t kiss him. No man has ever wanted you to kiss them, you know that. Tell him to back up and give you space before he wonders why you haven’t.
Sebastian should. It didn’t matter that they were still alone in the alley, he needed to make it seem like he wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to be pinned to walls by other men. Because if Lord Fine had any idea that Sebastian was aching to stretch up those few inches and close the distance to his lips—
He’s a viscount. He’s a British Army captain.
Sebastian needed to tell Lord Fine to move. But he didn’t.
The moment stretched out, Sebastian’s nerves on alert, his skin tingling with their proximity and the craving to be touched.
Footsteps echoed on cobblestones, closer than others had been.
Lord Fine calmly took a step back, giving Sebastian all the personal space he didn’t want. “Did you feel anything just now?”
“What?” Sebastian said helplessly.
“Did you feel anything,” Lord Fine said, slowly and patronizingly, like Sebastian was an idiot, “with your magic just now?”
Oh.
