The problem is the subheading.
Eagle-eyed fans speculate she may be popular romance author Violet Quinn.
Oh, no.
Heart hammering, I speed-read the article. The first part of it details what the public has gleaned about mine and Sebastian’s relationship. Only the recent stuff. Nothing about how we knew each other as teenagers. It recounts the times we’ve been seen together, then gives the bullet points about my parents’ divorce and sex tape.
Then there’s a photo that makes my stomach drop.
It was taken through the window of the coffee shop. My back is to the photographer as I’m hunched over my laptop, deep in concentration, and typing away. My screen is completely visible, and the photo beneath it is a zoomed-in close-up of the page I’d been working on.
“Oh my god.” Elise is going to murder me, reanimate my corpse, then murder me again.
“Indie? Is this true?”
My brain is too noisy and my body too full of panic to read Sebastian’s tone. I can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, full of wonderment… A distressed sound crawls up my throat.
“Baby? Are you okay?”
“I think I’m dying,” I say as my chest tightens. “Is this what a heart attack feels like? Or is it a run-of-the-mill panic attack? It’s hard to tell, sometimes.”
“Hey.” Strong hands spin me around before cupping my face and tilting my head back. Rich brown eyes search my expression, full of concern. Not anger. Thank god. “Breathe, sweetheart.”
I try to, I do, but the room still starts to spin, so I drop my phone and grab hold of his wrists.
“Come on. Deep breath in for me. That’s it.” Sebastian sweeps his thumbs along my cheekbones as he inhales slow and deep, encouraging me to mimic the action. “Good. You’re doing so well.”
When I’m finally breathing normally and my knees are no longer at risk of giving out, I close my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t even remember why it felt like I had to keep it a secret at first, but then with the playoffs, it didn’t seem like the best time to bring it up because I wanted the focus to be on you and the games. It sounds so stupid now that I’m saying it, but I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“I know, baby.”
The gentleness of his tone has me cracking my eyes open and staring up at him. Something that’s met with a smile. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad? Of course not. You don’t owe me your secrets. Do I hope you start feeling like you can tell me all of them? Absolutely. But we all have them.”
“And do you have secrets?” I hold my breath because a small, insecure part of me worries he does.
Bash’s lips quirk. “Maybe.”
Oh, god. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “And what secret is that?”
“Are you sure you want to know? Once I tell you, there’s no going back. It may change how you see me.” He’s smiling, but his words make my stomach pitch and roll.
“You’re freaking me out.”
His smile slips. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s not… There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just that I…” He blows a breath out through pursed lips. “I run a Dungeons and Dragons game.”
Blinking rapidly, I fall silent. Because that was not what I expected to hear. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re a well-known author, and I’m the Dungeon Master for a game that’s been going on for the last two years.” He shrugs like that’s not a completely unprecedented sentence. “But wait. Violet Quinn. Isn’t that the author the woman at the bookstore was talking about? The one they were desperate to have do an event at their shop?”
“Yes, but don’t change the subject. We’re talking about you and Dungeons and Dragons right now.”
Sebastian laughs brightly. “I also paint miniature figurines. No one else really knows, because either they’d make fun of me or want to join me, and I can never decide which would be worse.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “You’re a secret nerd.”
“And you’re a secret author. See? Everyone has their secrets.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “But what I don’t understand is why you’d keep this a secret? Mine is so my friends don’t bust my balls, but your secret is way more badass, so that can’t be it.”
