I’m expecting one of his comebacks. I’m waiting to see what he says when I pop his finger out of his mouth, but for the first time in his life, Sebastian is silent. His attention is fixed on my cheek, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he finally lets out a breath.
“You missed some.” It’s raspy, hoarse. He uses his thumb to wipe away a rogue piece of tomato from my bottom lip. He lingers there for a beat then pulls back, blinking out of a trance. “There we go. That’s perfect.”
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I don’t know.” Another bob of his throat. Want behind his heavy-lidded eyes. “But I don’t want to stop.”
Our gazes collide. I’m seconds away from parting my lips again, from tipping my head to the side, an invitation there, but a round of laughter from the living room makes us jump apart. It makes me fan my face and wonder why the hell I want to grab his shirt and bring his body back to mine.
“I should—” I shift away. I gesture to the counter. “Food. Friends. Hosting.”
Sprinting out of my own kitchen would make me lose my dignity, so I scoop the bowls off the counter with as much poise as I can muster. I walk down the hall at a casual, even pace, the weight of his attention following me as I go.
“More food!” Mia helps me set the bowls down, moving a coaster out of the way to make room for the salsa. “I told Harlow it looks like it’s going to storm. I figured you’d probably want to watch the clouds roll in, so we hit pause on the game.”
I smile. To be known is to be loved, and my friends know me better than anyone else in the world. “I thought I heard thunder. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I slip outside, watching lightning flash in the distance. Down the porch steps and I’m on the sidewalk, my blood humming as light rain starts to fall.
I breathe out, relaxing. Needing a minute to get my head on straight, because I think I was seconds away from kissing Sebastian Dunn, and I don’t know what that means.
Another exhale, and my shoulders loosen. I’ve spent hundreds of hours out here contemplating. Weighing big life decisions and celebrating inconsequential moments, the dark grays of an approaching storm my solace. The precipitation a cleanser, the slate wiped clean so I can try again tomorrow.
The click of the front door opening interrupts my calm. I know who it is without turning around, but I spin anyway, the earth rumbling under my feet with another roll of thunder.
“Hey.” Sebastian watches me. “My phone said there’s lightning in the area. Are you sure you want to be out here? Someone got struck in Altamonte Springs last week.”
“I’m paying attention. The storm is about eight miles away and moving fast. Should be out of here soon.”
He scrubs a hand over his face. The muscles in his jaw work, and he sighs. “There’s no use arguing with you, is there?”
“No.” I give him a bright smile and hold out my hands, drops of water landing in my palms. “But thanks for trying to babysit me.”
“If the lightning gets within five miles, I’m dragging you back inside. I’ll put you over my shoulder if I have to.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” Sebastian sticks to his word, not bothering to put a fight. He offers me one last look and turns for the house, his hand on the doorknob. “Be careful, Quincy. Please?” he says, slipping back inside.
The door snicks shut and I stare at the spot where he stood, confused. His concern is new, but I don’t let myself linger on it. I move my attention up, tilting my head and watching lightning spiderweb across the sky. Another bolt reaches from the clouds to the ground, and the thunder that follows makes me jump. There’s electricity in the air, and I rub my hands down my arms, knowing it’s time to tap out.
The distance is too close for comfort, and I slink back inside to safety, finding everyone where I left them. I lean against the entryway into the living room, watching my friends. It’s hard for all of us to get together. Coordinating six different schedules—seven, if you count Richard—is difficult, and I take a beat to soak up the moment.
Cooper and Nate stand in front of the television, having an argument about a trade that sends a really important hockey player to a team in DC while DC gives up a really not important hockeyplayer. Richard paces in the corner, phone pressed to his ear and deep in conversation. Mia is on her back on the couch, her head in Harlow’s lap and a large book in her hands.
And Sebastian …
Sebastian is nowhere to be found.
I don’t know why that stings.
“We pulled out your yearbooks.” Mia taps the glossy pages and laughs. “Boy, were we pieces of work. Teenagers look much different these days.”
“The braces were a terrible phase,” Harlow agrees. “Except for Nate. Nate can’t take a bad picture to save his life.”
“Not true.” Nate rolls his eyes. “The one on the crew team page is horrendous. No one should share an up-close image of a guy in tight spandex. My dick is like a beacon.”
“It’s a nice dick,” Cooper says.
