Chapter 26 #2
"Because he's Sebastian Walker," I correct her. "Because one minute he's ice cold and the next he's... not." I swirl my straw through my drink, watching the lime wedge bob. "And I don't know what any of it means."
"Does it have to mean something?" Laney asks, unusually serious. "Maybe it's just really good sex. Or almost-sex. Whatever."
I think about Sebastian's hands on me, yes, but also about the way he told me about his brother, about the ranch, about the scars he carries that have nothing to do with barbed wire. I think about how his voice sounded when he said my name, not as a command, but as something precious.
"Maybe," I say, not looking up.
Laney must hear something in my voice because she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."
I squeeze back, grateful for her understanding. "I'm not sure happy is the right word, but I'm... something."
"Something is better than nothing." She raises her glass. "To something."
I laugh and clink my glass against hers. "To something. And to you, birthday queen."
The conversation shifts then, to Laney's latest dating disaster and the hot doctor from ortho she has her eye on.
I listen and laugh in all the right places, but part of my mind keeps drifting back to Cheryl's room, to the vow I made.
The weight of it sits alongside thoughts of Sebastian, two separate gravity wells pulling at me.
"—and then he asked if I could examine his rash, right there in the middle of the coffee shop," Laney says as our entrees arrive. She pauses, eyeing me. "And now you're thinking about Walker again, aren't you?"
"What? No." I shake my head.
Laney's arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me into a half-hug. "You know, I expect a full report on what exactly happened this weekend. With diagrams, if necessary."
"Eat your dinner," I tell her, fighting a smile. "It's getting cold."
"Fine, fine." She cuts into her steak dramatically. "But don't think this gets you off the hook. I want the entire dirty story later."
I roll my eyes but can't help laughing. Even with everything churning inside me—Cheryl, Sebastian, my father—Laney's presence grounds me. Reminds me there are simple joys worth holding onto.
"Wouldn't dream of it," I tell her, and mean it.
The rest of dinner goes by in a fit of laughter. And by the time we exit the bistro and Laney loops her arm through mine, my cheeks actually hurt. It’s a welcome counterpoint to the heaviness that's been sitting in my chest all day.
We’re still cackling about the fallen souffle desert disaster when my words die on my tongue. I freeze mid-step, my laughter cutting off so abruptly that Laney stumbles beside me.
Sebastian.
He stands twenty feet away, leaning against a lamp post with casual confidence that doesn't match the intensity in his eyes.
His hands are tucked into the pockets of dark jeans that fit him in ways that should be illegal, and he's wearing a charcoal button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
His hair is slightly disheveled, like he's been running his hands through it.
He looks devastatingly delicious.
My stomach drops to my knees, then rebounds somewhere into my throat.
"Mia?" Laney's voice sounds far away. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a—" She follows my gaze and her sentence cuts off with a soft "Oh."
My legs suddenly feel unreliable, like they might decide to either run toward him or give out entirely. My heart hammers against my ribs so violently I'm certain Laney can feel it through our linked arms.
"Holy shit," Laney whispers, her eyes darting between Sebastian and me. "Is that—"
"Yes," I manage, the word barely audible.
"Well, fuck me sideways." She gives a low whistle. "He looks good enough to eat."
"Laney," I hiss, heat flooding my face.
"What? I'm just making an observation." She sounds far too amused. "And based on your reaction, I'm guessing you weren't expecting him."
I wasn't. I told him I had plans tonight. Told him tomorrow. And yet here he is, standing in the glow of a street lamp like some brooding hero straight out of a romance novel, waiting for me.
Straightening from his casual pose, he takes a step forward. Even that small movement sends a jolt of electricity through my body, a physical response I couldn't control even if I tried.
I drag oxygen into my lungs, willing my body to remember how to function properly.
What is he doing here? How did he even know where I'd be tonight?
The questions spin through my mind, colliding with memories of his hands on my skin, his voice in my ear, the taste of him on my tongue just hours ago.
"Should I leave?" Laney asks, though she sounds like she'd rather stay for the show. "Or do you need me to run interference?"
He takes another step forward, and another, closing the distance between us with deliberate strides.
"I think I'm good," I tell Laney, my voice steadier than I feel. "It's fine."
"You sure?" She glances between us again. "Because I'm getting some serious I'm going to devour you whole vibes from Dr. Frosty over there."
She's not wrong. There's something predatory in the way Sebastian moves toward us, something that makes me think of that moment in his office when he told me to kneel. My body responds to the memory with embarrassing eagerness, heat pooling low in my belly.
"Happy birthday, Laney," I say firmly, giving her arm a squeeze. "Thank you for dinner."
She snorts but takes the hint. "Fine, fine. I know when I'm being dismissed." She untangles her arm from mine, but leans in close to whisper, "Text me if you need rescue. Or details. Preferably details."
With that, she steps back and raises her voice. "I was just leaving."
Sebastian's eyes flick briefly to Laney, acknowledging her with a slight nod. "Dr. Cruz. Happy birthday."
"Thanks." She beams at him with exaggerated brightness. "What a coincidence, running into you like this. Almost like you were waiting or something."
I could strangle her. Sebastian's mouth quirks slightly at one corner, it’s not quite a smile, but close.
"Almost," he agrees, his voice that same low rumble that I feel in places Laney definitely doesn't need to know about.
"Well, I'll just be going then." She shoots me a look that says we'll be discussing this in excruciating detail later, then turns to leave. Over her shoulder, she calls, "Have fun, kids and remember to use protection."
And then she's gone, leaving me alone with Sebastian on the sidewalk. The space between us seems to contract and expand simultaneously, charged with an electricity that makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
"You said tomorrow," I finally manage.
He takes one more step closer, close enough now that I can smell his cologne. "I lied."
His eyes drop to my mouth, then back up to meet mine, and the heat in them steals what little breath I have left.
"Coming?" he asks, holding out his hand.
It's a question and a command all at once, a perfect encapsulation of the contradictions that make up Sebastian Walker.
And as I stare at his outstretched hand, at the man who's somehow walked into my life and turned everything upside down in the span of a weekend, I know I'm in far deeper than I ever intended to be.