Chapter Twenty-Two
ETHAN
This… was not what I was expecting.
On my last night in the city, Sebastian and I had fallen into bed fully clothed, too exhausted for anything but slow, sleepy kisses. He’d kept me tucked against him, and I’d drifted off with his hand warm at my back, neither of us wanting more than the quiet comfort of staying close.
The next day, when he’d pulled up to departures, I’d already been bracing for a quick kiss, a distracted “call me,” and a wave through the glass. Instead, he’d cupped my face and kissed me slow and deep, like he hadn’t been in a rush for once in his life.
Long enough that a horn had blared behind us, snapping the moment in half.
Sebastian had been there in a way that had felt unfamiliar. Not even like Barcelona. This had been more. Realer. Softer without losing himself.
He had promised he’d stay in touch.
And then he actually did.
Every day for the next two weeks, there was a message waiting for me when I woke up. More throughout the day. Usually a call at night when he knew I’d be home. We didn’t talk about us, but everything else in our lives was suddenly fair game.
He told me about his dad—how some days felt a little easier. Some days harder. How sometimes seeing him dragged up memories of his mom and all that pain, and sometimes it made him furious all over again.
We talked about work. I filled him in on what was happening here, and he walked me through some coursework like it was nothing, explaining concepts in that calm, frustratingly brilliant way that made me mad at him and proud of him at the same time.
I told him classes were getting harder by the day, the end of the semester creeping closer, and that I was splitting my time between morning lectures and whatever hours I could carve out at VistaReal.
He told me the crisis was stabilizing. That Elena had the team moving faster than he could have alone. That he was delegating more. Listening more. Letting go where he could.
He told me he was taking time off. Making the most of the time he had in New York—spending mornings with his dad and long lunches with Oliver.
Picking up Liam and Amelia from daycare and letting them drag him through Central Park to look at the Christmas lights already going up, like he didn’t run a company worth more than most small countries.
He told me he was worried about Henry. Said he wished he would open up to him more. Said he knew he’d made that harder by not being someone Henry could lean on before.
I don’t think he realized how big that admission was.
It felt like living in some parallel reality, and I still didn’t know if I was allowed to trust it.
Falling into a routine with him was dangerously easy.
All our conversations eventually slid into flirting, wanting, waiting.
Sometimes more. Because how could they not?
After that night together—after four years of nothing and now knowing exactly what I was missing, and not being able to touch him again because of the ocean between us—how were we not going to crave each other like this?
He didn’t say the words again—those three little words that haunted me. But I felt them. In the way he spoke. In the way he stayed. In the way he tried.
In the little things.
Packages started showing up at my apartment.
The first had pastries from a place he’d tracked down because I’d mentioned—once—that I missed them.
The next was clothes, not random but very…
me. Soft. Warm. The kind I’d always said I’d buy someday.
That was so Sebastian. Always had been. Except this time, it didn’t feel like performance or distraction. It felt like care.
Two weeks of that. Two weeks of his voice in my ear every night.
Two weeks of wanting and waiting and trying so hard not to hope.
By the day he was finally supposed to land, I was a mess of nerves and anticipation, pacing like a kid waiting for Santa.
Because I didn’t know which version of Sebastian I was going to get when that plane touched down.
And I didn’t know what it would do to me if it wasn’t this one.
I was lying on the couch, scrolling through my phone and waiting, when Henry showed up. It was pretty late already, closing in on 10 p.m.
“You’re just getting off work?” I asked as soon as he closed the door.
He looked worn thin—bags under his eyes, clothes rumpled. “Yeah,” he said with a nod, walking straight to the bar cart and serving himself a drink. “Things are picking up speed. You know how it is once we’re closer to the finish line.”
“Is Ari gonna come help?” I already knew the answer before he shook his head. He loved piling responsibility on himself. A Langley trait.
He slumped into the armchair with a heavy sigh. “What are you still doing up? Thought you had an early class tomorrow.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Ash is getting back today. He landed a little while ago.”
I didn’t mention he hadn’t called yet. We didn’t have plans or anything. I just… wanted to wait. Needed to know he was home and safe.
Henry’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he took a sip. “He’ll probably be tired, you know.”
I smiled to myself, knowing full well he was only trying to protect me—keep my expectations in check. It stung a little that he felt he had to.
I parted my lips, ready to tell him I was doing a fine job of that myself, when the lock in the front door turned and both our heads snapped toward it.
The door opened, and I shot upright, hands braced on the back of the couch as Sebastian walked in.
Well… fuck me.
My stomach swooped at the sight of him. “Hey,” I said, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
He gave me a tired smile, set his suitcase by the door, and crossed straight to me.
“Hey,” Henry said. “Did you come from the plane?”
Sebastian nodded, and when he finally stopped in front of me, he wrapped me in a tight hug. “From the plane,” he echoed in that deep rumble of his. Then, more quietly—for me—“Hi.”
My arms locked around his neck. “Hi.”
He leaned back just enough to press a soft kiss to my lips, and I melted. Completely, stupidly melted.
Then he slipped away, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he turned toward his brother. “Can I use your shower?”
Henry’s expression mirrored mine—stunned. His brows were still hovering near his hairline, drink paused halfway to his mouth as he nodded. “Go right ahead.”
Sebastian disappeared through the bedroom door, closing it softly behind him.
Henry and I just stared at each other.
“You weren’t expecting him, were you?”
I shook my head.
The corners of Henry’s mouth started lifting.
I pointed a finger at him. “You keep that goofy smile in check. We’re not getting our hopes up.”
He quickly covered his mouth with the rim of his glass, but he was very obviously trying not to grin.
My heart was beating a mile a minute, but I still managed to drop back from my knees and sprawl across the couch like I wasn’t hovering on the edge of my sanity, waiting. Henry was unusually quiet too, listening as the water ran in the next room and then eventually stopped.
When the door opened again, Sebastian emerged in Henry’s clothes.
His house clothes.
Which meant sweats.
Sebastian Langley in gray sweatpants and a worn white T-shirt, barefoot, hair damp and pushed back. He had never looked hotter in his life.
“I took some liberties,” he said, glancing at his brother.
Henry chuckled. “I can see that.”
Sebastian crossed the room, then climbed onto the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world—stretching out along my side, fitting himself against me, and dropping his head onto my shoulder with a tired sigh.
Okay.
This was cute as fuck.
“Do you want a drink?” Henry offered.
Sebastian tucked his head close, his damp hair brushing my cheek. “No, thanks. Too tired,” he mumbled.
Tentatively, I brushed his hair back with my free hand. When he hummed in approval, I kept going, stroking slowly. Sebastian settled even closer, his arm looping around my waist, his leg hooking comfortably over mine.
My eyes flicked to Henry.
He just smiled and shrugged before standing. “Well, I’m heading to bed.” He took a step, then turned back, his gaze staying mostly on me even though he spoke to Sebastian. “See you in the morning?”
Sebastian nodded, and Henry’s smile widened. I shot him a look, to which he snickered and disappeared down the hall.
My heart was still thudding as I lay there, still not totally sure what was happening—other than Sebastian turning from an antisocial cat into an aggressively cuddly one wrapped around me.
“Are you falling asleep?” I whispered.
He nodded.
“Do you maybe want to do that in the bedroom?”
“Here’s perfect.”
Warmth spread through me. I slipped my arm more securely around him, and he melted into me, like he’d been waiting to exhale until he was right here.
A few minutes passed with nothing but the soft sounds of the apartment at night and my fingers lazily moving through his hair. His breathing eventually evened out, slowed…
Then turned into faint little snores.
I smiled to myself and pressed a kiss to his temple.
Really fucking cute.
We ended up falling asleep on the couch.
I woke up with a tickle on my neck and darkness surrounding us.
There was a blanket over us too, which I assumed was Henry’s doing, because Sebastian was out cold.
I managed to coax him upright and into my bed.
He pulled his shirt off before sliding under the covers, and just seeing him like that—the warmth of his skin right there—immediately sparked my interest. I pressed close, kissing along his neck, his hands already roaming lazily over me.
But when my lips finally met his, he kissed me back… not the way I expected him to. It was soft. Lingering. He rolled us onto my side, curling up behind me, and wrapping his arms tight around my waist before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my neck.
“Let me just hold you tonight,” he whispered against my skin.