Chapter 17
TAYLOR
Bell, Ethan, Sebastian, and I stood by the front door, Sebastian holding a canvas bag packed with the lamb we never got around to eating.
His arm brushed against mine and stayed there.
If this were an hour ago, I would have shifted away.
Made space between us. Now, at least with these two, I didn’t have to. Didn’t have to pretend ever again.
“You sure you don’t want to stay and eat?” Bell asked, though his grin suggested he knew exactly why we wouldn’t.
“Rain check?”
“Absolutely.” He yanked me into a hug, clapping me on the back. When he pulled away, his hand stayed on my shoulder, his eyes bright. “I’m proud of you, T.”
“Thanks, man,” I said, my voice cracking.
“That took guts. It was brave.” He squeezed my shoulder once before stepping away.
I’d been sweating bullets ever since we got here, but the fear I'd felt paled in comparison to the way Bell stood his ground when sports commentators and online trolls alike told him to shut the fuck up about his sexuality and play the game. Or Ethan, who’d stared down demons I couldn’t even begin to imagine and refused to let them beat him.
They were the brave ones.
“More like a long time coming.”
“Take the compliment,” Bell directed, moving to Sebastian’s side.
Ethan stepped forward, and we shook hands as he gave me one of his rare, almost-smiles. “It’s good to see you happy.”
“Yeah,” I answered, shoving my hands into my pockets and shuffling my feet in place.
I wouldn’t say I’d been unhappy before. Not exactly. But lately, there’d been this feeling of … well, this persistent sense that something was missing. Like I was going through the motions of a life that should have been enough, but somehow wasn’t.
I had a career most guys would sacrifice their left nut for, a nice house, and the respect of my teammates and coaches.
Who was I to want more? It felt greedy.
The real kicker, however, was that I didn’t know if I’d describe what I felt now as happy, either. It seemed too simple for the tangle of emotions I was experiencing.
Coming out to Bell and Ethan had felt good. Right. Like I’d been holding my breath for years and could finally breathe again.
But Sebastian saying that he was still in love with me had thrown me off balance. I hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t been prepared for how those words would slam into me and rearrange everything I thought I understood about myself in an instant
Ever since Vegas, I could feel myself falling for him all over again, even knowing it was a bad idea to get too invested, too quickly.
Every night when we went to sleep, our legs tangled together—and then again each morning when I woke up in his arms—I reminded myself this was a temporary break from reality.
The problem was, it didn’t feel temporary.
No. It felt like I’d love this man for the rest of my goddamn life.
And even with all that, some not small part of me kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There was something at the back of my mind, a quiet warning telling me not to get too comfortable. Not to trust this feeling, no matter how right it seemed.
Sebastian had cut me out of his life once before, and that nagging voice at the back of my head kept whispering there were no guarantees it wouldn’t happen again.
I shook off the thought in time to see Bell pull Sebastian into one of his trademark bone-crushing hugs. When he finally released him, I watched him say something in Sebastian's ear that was too quiet for me to hear. He smiled and shook his head.
Then Ethan turned to Sebastian and extended his hand. “I’m not great with the emotional stuff, but I’ve been where you are. Where both of you are.” His gaze flicked briefly to me before returning to Sebastian. “If you need someone to talk to, call me. Anytime.”
Sebastian’s mask slipped for a moment, letting Ethan see the truth behind it. He hadn't expected the offer, and it meant a lot to him. “Thank you. I might actually take you up on that.”
“Good.” Ethan released his hand and stepped back, sliding an arm around Bell’s waist.
We said our final goodbyes and headed toward my car. Behind us, Bell mumbled something that made Ethan laugh, and their door clicked shut.
I let the car idle for a moment before pulling out of the driveway and heading toward home. The road curved along the coast, dusk glinting off the water as I tried to organize the thoughts careening through my mind.
Next to me, Sebastian's fingers drummed a fast, irregular rhythm against his thigh. “That was a lot.”
“It was,” I agreed, my right hand leaving the steering wheel to take his.
Sebastian’s grip was tight enough to hurt.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said after a stretch of silence.
“It was the only thing I could do,” he answered, his voice quiet but filled with absolute certainty.
“If I hadn’t, I couldn’t have lived with myself.
” He paused, and I heard him draw in a breath.
“And just so we’re clear, I meant what I said—I do love you.
” He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.
“I know how crazy that sounds,” he continued, “but the truth is, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.
Maybe that’s why it never worked with Wyatt. ”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him angle his body toward me.
“I don’t know what any of this means, or how we make it work, but I want to try. I want to be with you, Taylor. However you’ll have me.”
The words echoed in my head, colliding with that voice that kept warning me not to trust this. This was everything I had ever wanted to hear, but it terrified me, too. My emotions were enormous—too big for my chest, filling me up and drowning me at the same time.
The road blurred in front of me. I blinked hard and pulled my hand away, yanking on the steering wheel until my tires bumped over gravel. I hit the brakes, my headlights lighting up thick, dense marshland.
I put the car in park and spun to face him, my back pressed flat against the door. “What the fuck does that mean?"
Twin divots formed between his brow like he didn't understand why I was upset. Couldn't understand.
"Your season’s about to start. You’ll be on the road a lot, and when you’re not, you’ll still be focused on hockey. You should be focused on it. I just meant I’m not making any demands.”
Maybe I was reading too much into it, but it seemed like he was already setting up an excuse for why this wouldn't work. Already preparing his exit strategy for when it turned out I couldn't be what he needed.
Or when he can't give you what you need, a vicious voice at the back of my head supplied.
“I’m more concerned about your job,” I told him, trying to keep my frustration in check.
“When you first told me about the campaign, I asked you to stay with me. You told me point-blank it was a bad idea. That you’d be unavailable.
That you’d basically disappear into the work. Now you’re turning that back on me?”
Sebastian’s mouth opened, then closed. He released my hand and turned his head slightly to stare out the window, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“I just need some clarity here, Seb, because you’re giving me whiplash.” I blew out a breath and carded my hands through my hair before dropping them down to rest on my thighs.
“You’re right. I’m … fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and dragged his attention back to me.
“When I said that, I was still thinking this was something I could compartmentalize, like I do with everything. But sitting at that table tonight, watching you choose to be honest even when it was scary, I realized I don’t want to do this halfway. ”
“What does that even mean?”
“I want to figure out how to make this work. Really work, Tay. Even when it’s hard. Even when we’re both exhausted and in different cities and are stretched too thin.”
The tightness in my chest loosened, but only slightly. Because wanting to make it work and actually being able to were two different things.
And there was still one massive issue he hadn’t addressed. One question that had been eating at me since Vegas.
“And where does Wyatt fit into all of this?”
Sebastian jerked back. “What?”
“Are you—” I stopped, swallowing down my fear. I hated having to ask this. Hated how needy it made me feel. “Are you even free to be with me?”
His face went slack with surprise, followed immediately by something that looked like horror. “Oh my god. I ended things with Wyatt.”
“When?”
“In Vegas.” He reached for my hand again, and I let him take it.
His words came faster now, tumbling over each other.
“I realized there was nothing there anymore. That there hadn’t been for a long time.
I didn’t … I couldn’t …” he trailed off, blowing out a breath.
“Jesus Christ, this whole time you thought I was still with him?”
Relief flooded me, but there was anger, too. At him for not thinking to say something. At myself for not asking. At the fact that I’d spent ten days feeling like shit about something that wasn’t even true.
“How would I have known? You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t know how to.” His thumb brushed back and forth over my knuckles. “We hadn’t talked about what any of this was, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured. Like you owed me something because I’d blown up my life for you.”
“Did you—blow up your life for me?"
“No.” He shook his head. "I blew it up for me. Like I said before—it was a long time coming. Getting you was a happy coincidence.”
“I wish you had told me,” I said, pain slipping into my voice. “All this time, I’ve been wondering if I was—if this was—”
I paused, trying to figure out what I wanted to say. My brain and my mouth seemed at odds with each other.