32. Sebastian
Chapter 32
Sebastian
Six days. It’s been six fucking days of pure torture, watching her from afar, unable to talk to her, touch her, hold her.
Give her time. Great fucking advice, sis.
I’m going crazy here, and my headaches are back.
I sit in the cafeteria, my eyes glued to Lil as she eats lunch with Gemma, Mary, and fucking Jason. It kills me to see her laughing with them, smiling at him.
She went back to being friends with Gemma and Mary so easily, and it’s only fair because they didn’t know about our family’s history. But me? I knew. And I kept it from her.
Fuck. The closed-off look on her face. The distance in her eyes. She looked at me like I was a stranger, like I’d betrayed her. And I did. But I was trying to protect her, trying to keep her safe from all this bullshit. I never meant to hurt her.
Who am I kidding?
It was wrong. I was wrong .
She’s strong enough. She showed it even when we were kids.
I should have trusted in what we have and told her. Let her decide for herself.
My fingers drum restlessly on the table as Jason moves closer to Lil.
That self-righteous prick is acting like he’s some kind of savior. His fucking hands on her makes my blood boil. He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t know her like I do.
Why does he have to be so damn close to her?
Doesn’t he have any respect for boundaries? Lil shifts away from his touch, but Jason either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
Gemma glances up, meeting my stare from across the room. Her eyes narrow, and she shakes her head in warning. I know what she’s thinking—don’t make a scene. But fuck I want to march over there and put Jason in his place.
According to Gem, Lil already did that. She told him off. My girl told him off. I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face at the thought.
Yet, it was for them, not for me. She welcomed them back with open arms. And here I am, still on the outside looking in. It’s my own damn fault. I know that. But it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
I need to get her back. I need to make her understand that what we have is real and that my feelings for her are genuine. But how? How do I break through those walls she’s put up?
I run a hand through my hair, frustration coursing through me. I can’t lose her. I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to her that I’m not the monster she thinks I am. That I love her more than anything.
My gaze lingers on Lil, taking in her delicate features and the shadows beneath her eyes. She hasn’t been sleeping well. Nightmares plaguing her. Sometimes, I sneak into her room at night and try to soothe her nightmares by massaging her wrists or temples. One time, she woke up and almost saw me. It’s dangerous, but I can’t help it.
The group chat pings.
Brandon: Dude, where the hell are you? Coach is already screaming at us. We’re supposed to be on the field in 2 minutes. You’re late again.
Connor: Seriously. Does this guy even have good days?
Brandon: About as often as we actually finish practice on time.
Sebastian: Be there soon. Stall for me?
Brandon: You owe me. Hurry the fuck up.
As I walk away, I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me. I glance over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of Lil, her eyes locked on mine.
For a moment, just a moment, a flicker of something other than hurt marks her gaze. Longing? Regret?
I can’t be sure. But it’s enough to give me hope. Don’t worry, princess. I’ll have you in my arms soon enough.
“Dude, you’re gonna get us all benched!” Brandon shoves a helmet into my hands.
“I know, I know. Thanks for covering.” I tug my practice jersey over my head and follow him onto the field. Football is a welcome distraction I can channel my restless energy into.
The team is already running drills. Coach bellows at them, face beet red. Here we go.
“Barron! Late again? What’s your excuse this time?” Coach asks.
“Sorry, Coach. Won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” He points at the others. “Now, get your asses on the field before I bench you for the rest of the season!”
The whistle blows, and we launch into action. We run through play after play, and sweat drips down my neck, soaking my shirt. By the time Coach finally blows the whistle, signaling the end of practice, my muscles burn, protesting each hit and tackle.
I stagger over to the bench and peel off my helmet to splash water on my face, relishing the brief relief.
“You need to get your shit with her fixed.” Brandon comes up behind me.
I give him a weak smile. “If I knew how.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Yes. I tried talking to her, and since then, Jason’s hovering over her.”
I grab a towel and dry my face. I lower the towel and spot Jason striding over, eyes narrowed. Speak of the devil .
He stops right in front of my face, and I stand up, meeting him head-on.
“Stop stalking her, Barron,” he says.
My fingers curl into fists. “Mind your own damn business.”
“She is my business, and she finally realized you’re not worth her time.”
“Leave it, Campbell.” I’m barely holding on here.
“Or what?” Jason shoves me. “You know, I was with her all last night. Real close and—”
My fist connects with his face with a sickening crack. Pain flares up my arm, but it’s drowned in the satisfaction of wiping that sneer off his face. The impact sends Jason staggering, his eyes wide with shock and fury as he clutches his jaw.
“You son of a bitch!” He launches himself at me, and we tumble to the ground, rolling around as we exchange blows.
The world blurs, and all I can see is red—blinding, searing red.
It consumes me as my fists connect with flesh again and again. Everything’s fucking red. How fucking dare he? How dare he touch her, talk about her like he has any right? Each blow is a promise: He will never put his hands on her again. He will never speak her name again. He will never—
Hands grab at me, voices shouting, but they’re distant, drowned out by the blood roaring in my ears. I shrug them off, focused solely on making Jason pay. Pay for putting his hands on my girl.
My princess. My Lil .
“Sebastian, stop! You’re going to kill him!” Brandon’s voice slices through the fog of my fury.
Kill him? Good. He deserves it. I draw back my fist, ready to deliver another blow—
“What is Lil gonna think when she sees you like this?” Brandon asks.
I stop midair, my fist trembling. Lil. Her face flashes in my mind.
At least this time, she’ll remember.
“Go on, Barron.” Jason’s lips form a broken, victorious smile. “I know you want to.”
I start to lower my fist, then clench it tighter, my knuckles whitening.
Right as I want to strike, arms lock around my chest, yanking me backward with a force that lifts me off Jason. I thrash against the hold, my body rebelling, desperate to finish what I started.
Coach’s face appears in front of me. “Barron, what the hell is wrong with you?”
I’m breathing hard, each inhale a stab, each exhale a growl. What’s wrong with me? Everything. Nothing. I don’t fucking know anymore. My eyes flick to Jason, who staggers to his feet, lip split and nose bloody. But he’s grinning like a madman.
Did they? After everything that’s happened, after the way I’ve hurt her, why wouldn’t she seek comfort in someone else’s arms?
“You’re done. Hit the infirmary and get out of my sight,” Coach says. “You too, Campbell. ”
Jason and I glare at each other, walking off the field.
My knuckles throb, and I taste blood in my mouth, and as pissed as I am, I also feel satisfied. He should stay the hell away from Lil.
The nurse shoots us a disapproving look, shaking her head. “Honestly, what am I going to do with you two?” She sits Jason down and examines his nose. “You’re lucky, it’s not broken.”
“Guess you lost your touch, Barron.”
“You—”
“No fighting in here. Sebastian, behind the curtain, please.” She hands me an ice pack. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
I’m not in the mood to see his smug face anyway. I slump into a chair behind the curtain, pressing the ice pack against my cheek.
It takes me back to that night when Lil punched me. I didn’t need it then, but damn if she didn’t look so worried and adorable fussing over me. Her hands were so gentle, those eyes wide with concern. I couldn’t help but tease her a little to see that pretty blush on her cheeks.
And when we kissed… fuck, I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t get enough of her soft lips, her sweet taste. I wanted to drown in her, lose myself completely.
But then she pulled away, all flustered and apologetic. It was fucking endearing. I knew right then I had to have her. I didn’t care about the complications or the consequences. I wanted her .
And now, here I am, nursing a bruised face and ego, all because of her. Because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching her, especially not that prick Jason.
I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. I miss her. I miss her so much it physically hurts. I need to fix this. I don’t care about our families or their fucked-up history. I only care about her.
The curtain rustles, and I open my eyes, half-expecting to see her standing there, ready to patch me up again. But it’s the nurse looking at me with a mix of pity and exasperation.
“Let’s take a look at that face of yours.” She lifts the ice pack to examine my face. Her fingers prod gently at my cheek and jaw. “You’ll have some bruising, but nothing’s broken.” She hands me back the ice pack. “Keep this on for a while.”
I nod, holding it against my face. The nurse’s phone rings, and she steps away to answer it. I catch snippets of her conversation. Something about an emergency.
She comes back, looking hurried. “I have to step out for a bit. You two behave yourselves while I’m gone, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jason says from behind the curtain.
I roll my eyes. Kiss-ass.
The nurse leaves, and I lean back in the chair, closing my eyes again and letting the ice do its thing.
The door opens again.
“Are you okay?”
My heart leaps at the sound of Lil’s voice, hope rising that she’s here for me .
“I’m fine,” Jason says. “Just a few bruises. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Lil sighs. “What happened?”
She didn’t come for me. She came for… him.
I stand, yanking the curtain aside. Lil’s shocked face greets me, her hand still on Jason’s arm. The sight of them together, the implication of her words, it’s too much. I can’t fucking breathe.
I storm out of the room, ignoring Lil’s calls. I need to get away, away from her, away from the thought of her with him. It’s like a knife twisting in my gut and then being ripped out.
“Sebastian, wait!” Lil’s voice echoes behind me, but I keep walking, my jaw clenched so tight it hurts.
“Please.” A hand grabs my wrist from behind.
I stop. Lil, slightly out of breath, walks around to face me, not letting go of my wrist. Her touch burns, a bittersweet reminder of what I’ve lost. If she wants me again, she’ll have to be the one to say it.
Please say it. Please say you care.
“Does it hurt much?”