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“So.” I push off the wall and brush past him into my kitchen, before opening my glasses cabinet. “Want a drink? You know, water or something? It’s hot as heck out there. I bet you’re thirsty. Did you walk?”
He turns, watching me, then shakes his head. “No, I’m out of the boot. I drove. And no, thank you. I’m okay.”
I lower my hand from where it’s been heading toward the cabinet. “Right. Sure.”
“I…brought the roller rink clothes you left at my place.” He glances over his shoulder to my duffel bag. “Rainbow earrings, black romper, high-tops, and fuzzy ankle socks. That was everything, right?”
“Yeah, it was. Thanks.”
Sebastian stares at me, shifting his weight, leaning harder into my counter. Finally he says, “I’m sorry I’ve dropped off the radar a lot the past week.”
My heart flip-flops. I wasn’t the only one who noticed, then, who felt there was a significance to our silence. That shouldn’t matter to me. But it definitely does.
“Oh.” I shrug, turning and leaning against the counter too, stretching out my legs. “That’s fine. I mean, you know. Friends do that.”
He stares down at his hands, spinning one of his rings. “Well, I don’t know about that. Maybe some do. I’m no friend expert. But…I don’t think that’s the kind of friend I want to be to you.”
I bite my lip. “It’s really okay, Sebastian—”
“Don’t do that,” he says, peering up at me. “Don’t go easy on me. You never have before. You’re different. We’re different. Just like you told me.”
At the mention of what I said last weekend, the memory of our kisses feels so tangible between us, it’s like for a moment it’s a third person in the room, bursting through, all color and heat and sparkle. But then I remind myself what he said afterward, even though he said our kisses were good, even though his enthusiastic response seemed to indicate he enjoyed himself as much as I did:
You asked me to be your friend, Ziggy, and I’m hardly worthy of that, but I’d like to be. Don’t ask more of me, please.
I told myself I’d honor that request. And I mean to, even if I’ve thought a lot about just what exactly “more” could mean.
Pushing aside kissing thoughts, I clear my throat and meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Okay. Well, in that case, I was worried about you.”
A muscle in his jaw jumps. He nods.
“And I…sort of missed talking to you.”
His eyes hold mine. “Yeah. I…missed that, too.”
I try not to smile, hearing that, but I fail. Twisting my mouth, I try to hide it. “Is that why you’re here? Or was it just to drop off the clothes?”
A heavy sigh leaves him. Sebastian brings his hands to his face and scrubs it roughly. “I think so, yes. I mean…it wasn’t just the clothes. It wasn’t even mostly the clothes.” His hands fall. “Fuck me, I don’t know—I don’t have experience with this. I’m flailing around, trying to find my way. I want to be around you without being a depraved asshole who only teases you or is sticking his tongue down your throat, but clearly that’s not a skillset I’ve spent a lot of time developing.”
I almost tell him I really don’t mind the teasing, because Lord knows I like giving it right back to him. I almost tell him I wish he’d stick his tongue down my throat again already. That I have thoroughly missed that—all of that—everything that I feel and experience when spending time with Sebastian.
But he told me his boundary. He told me what he wants. Friends. Nothing that compromises his friendship with Ren. Nothing that makes him feel like he’s crossed the line with me into a place he’s uncomfortable with.
I’m going to respect that.
Even if I’m pretty sure I’ve stumbled into a pretty serious crush on Sebastian Gauthier. Even if I feel possibility crackle in the air between us, a magnetic pull right in the center of me, drawing me toward him.
“Well…” I push off the counter. “We did fine at angry yoga, before I left. No depraved assholery. Or…tongues down throats.”
Sebastian blows out another heavy breath. “Yeah.”
“Sure, things got quiet here and there, but that took two of us. We’re just figuring this out, Sebastian. There’s bound to be bumps on the road. Now you’re here. I’m here. And we both missed talking. So, let’s go sit and…talk.”
Sebastian glances toward my reading chair, the only seating I have. It’s oversized, enough to fit two average-sized people. He and I, however, are not average-sized people. Sebastian clears his throat. “I’ll stand.”
“No.” I start past him, taking his hand and tugging him with me. “I can sit on the floor, stretch out on the rug. I need to do my nighttime stretches anyway—”
Suddenly my hand is tugged, and I’m wrenched back toward Sebastian, making me stumble into him.
