Page 39 of Home Again

11

Gianna held the sweater tight around her as she looked out the window to see who was knocking at her door. Her gut clenched when she saw it was Sebastian. She’d hoped—oh how she’d hoped—that it would be him at her door. He knocked again.

“Answer the door, Gianna. I can see your shadow in the window.”

She trembled, then unlocked the door and opened it. He stood there. “Are you going to invite me in?”

She took a step backward. “Come in.”

When she couldn’t stand him staring at her another instant, she whirled away and stalked to the small kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as she stood in front of her open refrigerator.

Strong hands ran up and down her arms. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Why are you here, Sebastian?”

She felt him rest his forehead on top of her head. “Is it bad that somehow when my world is out of control, and I’m angry at everybody, I know I can come here and you’ll make it all right?”

She thought about that night in the library. The night that she had been replaying over and over again. Sebastian the man. Sebastian the child. How had he burrowed so deeply into her heart? It made no sense.

“Gianna, did you hear me?”

She let him turn her around so that his arms held her. His fingers pushed up her chin so that their eyes met. “You barely know me.” Even she could hardly hear the words she spoke.

“I know you,” he breathed into her ear. “All the hurt that you’ve gone through in your life? All of your strength? I am in awe of you, and you bring me comfort.”

She jerked away from him and leaned against the kitchen counter, putting space between them. “Sebastian if you came here just to have sex, then say it. You don’t need to say the pretty words.”

“Goddammit, Gianna, don’t you think I know this sounds crazy? I’m not here for sex.” He strode past her and into the living room, his hand raking through his hair until he ended up pulling the ends with his fist. He turned and glared at her. “I need to talk to one sane person in this world. One person who understands what it’s like to have stink and rot swirling around them and wonder how to escape it.”

How was that her? She’d never been anybody. The only thing close to anything that she’d done was her fabrics; that was her strength.

“I don’t—”

He was on her in an instant, his hand covering her mouth. “I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not going to stand for it. You’re going to say some drivel about how you don’t have anything to offer, right?”

How can he know?

He lowered his head, his lips at her ear. “That was what you were going to say, right?”

He lifted his palm from her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe,” she said.

“Calm. You gave me calm when all I’ve felt was rage since I came here. So how can you not be special?”

“What do you want from me, Sebastian? Just tell me what you want. Don’t make me try to guess. I’ll get it wrong, and then… and then…”

“Then what, cher?”

“Then you’ll laugh.” And wasn’t that one of the worst ways she could be hurt?

“I would never laugh at you. Please trust me. Can you?”

She looked up into the dark depth of his eyes. She saw such anguish, but it was the hope that called to her.

“I’ll try to trust you. But it’s hard.”

He pushed the cardigan off her shoulders. She let her arms drop so that it fell to the floor. Her breathing sped up as he looked at her thin tank top and lacy sleep shorts. She bit her lip and forced herself to stay still, even though every instinct was telling her to run and hide.

Sebastian reached up and cupped her cheek. His thumb brushed her lower lip, tugging it away from her teeth. “I’m the only one allowed to bite this lip.”