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“What are you doing?” I spun around to find Bastian staring at me, breathing hard, and that fire in his eyes back with a vengeance. It made me want to cower; after all, I was being a coward. Running away wasn’t my normal go-to, but after everything that had transpired in the last week, I honestly couldn't face Bastian and tell him I was leaving.
Slamming the trunk shut, I turned around slowly and leaned back against the Uber. “Heading home—not to Nashville. Home-home.”
Bastian's face remained calm, although one eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “What's waiting for you at home?” he asked carefully.
“Nothing exciting, just my parents and my old childhood bedroom.”
An expression of confusion crossed his face. “So, there's no reason you need to go home, is there?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. I just need time to think more than anything.”
He stepped closer, and I had nowhere to go with the car behind me, so when he reached out to put his hands on the back of the car, he boxed me in.
“What is there to think about?” he asked slowly, accentuating each syllable. I licked my lips before swallowing hard. He was so close, and yet, he wasn't touching me. That was all my body wanted him to do as it arched toward him, longing for connection.
“I …” I didn't know what to say. No answers springing to my mind would be acceptable. At least not if the look in his eyes were any indication.
“What did my mom say?” he asked, leaning closer. His nose nearly touched mine, and I expected it to, but he still never gave me the connection I craved.
“She reminded me I had a lot to gain in this relationship, and it got me thinking about whether I could truly be with you.”
Bastian leaned closer to my face, filling my vision with only him. The world could be ending around us, and all I could see was him. All I could hear was him. All I could breathe was him.
“Do you love me?”
I blinked at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this, and he shook his head so hard he knocked a strand of hair loose from his man bun. “Don’t think about it. Just answer the question. Do you love me?”
As hard as it is not to overthink this right now, I answered him with the first thing that came to mind. “Of course I do.”
“And you don’t question that feeling at all? You’re a hundred percent certain you love me—who I am, not what I am. You don’t love me for being a music producer. You don’t love me for being a dad. You don’t love me for being a client at the resort that you work at. You just love me, Sebastian, right?”
His words were both feverishly desperate and insecure. Had his mom sowed a seed of doubt in his mind too?
“Yes, yes, I love you. I don’t love any title you may own. I love you for who you are, and I can’t explain it, but I feel relief when I look at you. Like I have been walking through this world all my life, not realizing I was missing something until I saw you. Then it all fell into place, and I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you. But—”
He cut me off. “—But nothing. If you truly feel that way and the titles don’t matter, the other stuff doesn’t matter either.”
I sighed in exasperation. “I don’t want to use you.”
“And who says you’re using me?” he said, lifting a shoulder and dropping it. “Did I say you were using me?”
“Well, no—”
“—Did my mom say you were using me?” There was an edge to his voice, and I shook my head.
“No, she didn’t say that. She just—”
“—if she didn’t say it, then she doesn’t think it. She was just being protective. She wanted to be sure your intentions were right. So, are they?”
“I don’t know. That’s the thing,” I said. “That’s why I was leaving to go home—to figure it out, and then maybe, in a few weeks, once I had distance from you, I would know whether the insanity of falling in love at first sight was real or if it was just make-believe.”
His hold on my face tightened like he was trying to dig his fingers into my skull as his forehead collided against mine. He stared at me intensely, making me shiver right to my toes.
“This isn’t make-believe. I’ve never felt this way … Not even with Eleanor.” He whispered the last part like it was the most painful thing he had ever said. And frankly, my heart broke for him.
I had no doubt he loved his wife. I had no doubt they would probably still be together if she were still alive, and I wouldn’t even be on his radar. So, to admit something like that must’ve been bittersweet.
“Okay,” I whispered.
