“You’re like a weighted blanket, Dunn.”
“Comes in handy when it’s twelve degrees outside and my furnace stops working.”
“If that’s what happens in New York, I will not be visiting.” I stifle a yawn and run a hand across his chest. My nails scratch over his tattoo, and he shivers under my touch. “I’m a Florida girl. I’d rather do long division than figure out how to work a furnace.”
“Given we’re in the twenty-first century, not America in the seventeen hundreds, pressing the button to turn the heat on is all it takes. I’ll teach you.”
“I’m going to miss you,” I whisper, the reality of the day settling in. Thousands of miles between us. Two different lives. “Very much.”
He moves his hand to my cheek, cupping my face with his palm. “I’m going to miss you more.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“With us, it’s always been a competition, Pres.”
“Hey.” I sit up. “You’re leaving today. I think your goodbye gift should be telling me what the hell that nickname means.”
“God.” His laugh ghosts across my skin when he drops his head in the crook of my neck. “It’s so stupid. You’re going to be unimpressed with me when I tell you.”
“I’m constantly unimpressed with you,” I tease.
“Yeah?” Sebastian moves quick. He flips our positions, holding himself above me. He rocks forward and I feel him between my legs, hard, warm, and my eyes flutter closed. “That’s not what you said last night. I distinctly remember hearing something aboutmoreandbest I ever had.”
“Inadmissible. What I say in the middle of an orgasm can’t be used against me.” I loop an arm around his neck, playing with the links on his necklace. “Truth or Dare, Sebastian Dunn?”
“Dare, Quinny baby.”
“I dare you to tell me your secret. Please?”
“Fine.” He leans in close, mouth at my ear. He kisses my jaw. Dips lower to kiss the line of my throat before whispering, “It’s short for president.”
“President?”
“Yup. Quincy. Monroe. John Quincy Adams. James Monroe. It was the first thing that came to mind when I heard your name. It worked originally, because I thought you were a guy. But then you walked into the classroom. I saw who you really were with your dark hair and big brown eyes. Long legs and a skirt that drove me fucking bonkers, and I lost all train of thought. Couldn’t remember my own name. I blurted it out because it was an opportunity to talk to you. Plus.” He drags his tongue up my neck. “It got you so fired up, and seeing you mad as hell is the sexiest fucking thing.”
“That is …” I reach for a pillow and hit him square in the face. “So cheesy and so stupid. I was expecting some elaborate story. Maybe something cute. Not because I was named after the presidents.”
“Are you really named after the founding fathers?”
“Unfortunately. My dad used to teach History of Early America. I could recite all the presidents in order by the time I was four.”
“Wow.” Sebastian grins down at me. I’m tempted to grab my phone and take a picture of him so I never forget how beautiful he is in the morning light. Sunbeams haloing his head. Swollen lips and a red mark on his neck from where I paid careful attention to it last night. “I’m going to start slipping presidential nicknames into our conversations.”
“If you call me Tricky Dicky, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Now it has to go on the list.” He laughs and rolls off me, burrowing himself in the pillows beside me. “I need to start getting ready. My flight is at three, but I need to swing by and say goodbye to the guys.”
“I’m so selfish. You’re spending your last hours with me when there are dozens of other people who want to see you before you go.”
“It’s a good thing I’m an adult and can make my own choices.” Sebastian pauses. “I want to make this work, Quincy. You and me. It’s not going to be easy, but I want to try.”
“Are you sure? You’re in New York. The city that never sleeps with some of the most beautiful people on earth. You’re going to forget all about me in a couple weeks.”
“Impossible.”
“Why is that impossible? I won’t be there. We might only talk once a day. Sometimes less than that.”
“I’ve been thinking about you for a while.”
