36. Georgia
Chapter 36
Georgia
I hadn't spoken to Sebastian in over three weeks. I would find myself checking my phone randomly throughout the day whenever I thought to look up into the loft above the bookstore. The lights were still strung around the exposed rafters, the bookcases still arranged with the same novels, and the weatherbeaten old rug in its usual place. But it had been irrevocably changed by me, by him. By the way his body felt over mine as he drove into me and how his fingers dug into my hips like he wanted to keep me.
"Let me keep you." I clenched my fists as the sleepy whisper flitted through my mind while I rearranged the children's book section. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to remember that even though we hadn't spoken, over ten thousand dollars had been deposited remotely into my account weekly; one time, it was nearly twelve thousand, and I broke down on my bed at the alert.
Not because of the amount of money but because every time my phone tone went off, I grabbed it with a racing heart, hoping to see his name pop up.
Deep down, I knew I should stop being a coward and just call him. Or, you know, just go across the hall to his door and knock. I left every morning hoping to bump into him, hoping to see him getting his mail or picking up groceries. But nothing. It was like he hadn't left his apartment these last few weeks.
The night we tried to film again broke me. It made me realize that I couldn’t go back to the way we were, and that this whole thing was a mess from the start. I just needed to forget it ever happened.
Emma had taken down the For Sale sign in the window but refused to talk about it, just saying it was still up in the air and she didn't want to give me any false hope. I had seen the news—hell, everyone had—about The Quinn Foundation's epic and very public downfall. Emma shook her head, clucking her tongue, and simply said, "That kind of greed can only go unchecked for so long."
My heart ached for Seb, wondering how his sister was dealing with it. But still, I was a coward. It was like if I ignored something long enough, it would go away; if I stuffed it down deep enough, I could pretend it didn't happen. Like I hadn’t felt anything when he’d finally kissed me and didn’t miss the way he felt and sounded and tasted.
"How's the novel coming?" Emma piqued, breaking my morose train of thought as the elderly woman came around the corner with a box of books.
That brought a smile to my face and an undeniable sense of satisfaction filled me. "I sent it off to my friend from college; she's an editor, and she's looking over it for me. I'm going to send it to querying." I paused, shaking my head and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as I quickly tampered with my expectations. "You know, obviously, if it passes some checks through my peer group."
Emma just grinned, box balancing on her hip as she took me in. "Honey, I am so proud of you. That is a huge accomplishment."
Drawing a deep shuddering breath, I forced a smile so I wouldn't burst into tears. "Thanks, Emma, really." She patted my shoulder as she passed me, leaving me again to my thoughts.
The bell above the door rang, and I shut my eyes. Yes, I was at work, but to be honest, talking to customers was the last thing I wanted to do right now.
"Welcome in. Let me know if you need any help!" I called regardless; my best customer service tone was always an octave higher than my normal tone.
Silence.
I stood, my knees aching from kneeling so long in front of the lower shelf of books, and turned to see who had so silently entered.
I stood motionless as all the breath left my body, and I swallowed hard against all the words that I had rehearsed in my head for when I would see Sebastian Wolfe Quinn once again. But there he was, standing in front of me, and all I could do was stare.
Then I got irritated; how dare he stand here at my job, looking gorgeous. With his stupid black curly hair and a stupid Roman nose that he obviously stole off a marble statue somewhere. With his stupid golden skin and a stupid black shirt that seemed to strain around the muscles of his biceps, even under the jacket he wore against the cold. I nearly did a double take as I noticed the way he had rolled his jacket up, his tattoos visible to the world.
Clearing my throat, I adjusted my cardigan, knowing it was one of my older ones, something I had just thrown on over the t-shirt I now regretted tossing on. Had I even brushed my hair? Did I sleep in this braid?
All of this and more ran through my head, but when I opened my mouth, all I could manage was, "What are you doing here?" It was softer than I wanted it to be; I should be angry, shouldn't I? I wasn't sure why I was furious, why I was hurt when I was the one who wanted to say it was a mistake.
It hit me all at once while he stared at me, amber eyes wide and nervous. I wasn't angry at him. I was angry at myself for not allowing myself to keep him. To let him keep me, to let him wrap his arms around me and drag me back to bed that perfect morning before I let my fear ruin it all for me.
Sebastian shook his head, like he was clearing it before responding, "I wanted to see you. In person." Silence. I was more thankful than ever for the fact that there were no customers yet today; it was still early for the Sunday crowd.
Picking at my thumbnail, I forced my hands to still and said, "Well, I'm here." The tension rose until it was unbearable. "What do you want, Quinn?"
That had his face twisting, and he took a step towards me, "Don't do that."
Throwing out my arms, I sighed in exasperation, "Do what?"
My indignation masked my fear and my self-hatred for a moment, but obviously not well enough because Quinn had a knowing look on his face.
He was directly in front of me now, close enough that I could smell the familiar scent of his aftershave, and it twisted my stomach.
"Don't call me that, don't you dare. Not after everything." His voice was deadly serious. His jaw was clenched almost painfully.
"What should I call you?" I goaded, even though I wished I would stop and just say I was sorry. But if I let those words pass my lips, there would be no going back.
"By my name, Clark ," he shot back, agitated as his eyes searched my face. "I didn't come to trade barbs, I came because I missed you, goddammit."
That stopped me, freezing the next breath that still sat in my lungs, and I was afraid to move, fearful that if I did anything else, he would take it back. That he would leave when he realized I was going to fuck this up. That I already had.
"Why?" The question slipped past my lips without my permission. I hated how it sounded, how it was more a plea than a question. Sebastian's eyes softened and he took yet another step closer, arm reaching out as if he would touch me before dropping back down to his side.
"Are you going to make me say it?" Sebastian asked, so softly I nearly missed it. He looked just as scared as I felt. Shaking my head, I bit my bottom lip to seize its trembling.
"No, don't say it. You're going to regret it," I turned, grabbed the now empty box and walked away with my heart beating so quickly in my chest I felt dizzy.
"Damn it, stop running away from me, Georgia!" cried Sebastian, the rich baritone echoing throughout the small bookstore. And I did stop, my body rebelling from my brain. Before I knew it, his hands were on me, spinning me around to face him.
God, I hoped he couldn't see the redness already flushing up my neck or the tears clinging to my lashes that I just couldn't stop and hated myself for.
"Stop running for just a minute, and let me just get this out," he begged softly, his eyes pleading with me to just wait. I bit my lip and wrapped my arms around my torso, steadying myself as he let his hands drop. "I can't stop thinking about you. I have never wanted anyone or anything like I want you. It's not the sex; I want to take you out on a date. I want to meet your grandmother, I want to take care of you when you're sick and feed that fat cat of yours."
The sob that crawled from the back of my throat escaped as I clasped a hand over my mouth, and tears ran down my face. I hated crying in front of anyone. I felt open and vulnerable, but I couldn't move. Not when he was looking at me like that.
I didn't realize I was shaking my head until I saw the way his shoulders drooped. "Sebastian?—"
Quinn held up his hand, a new look of determination darkening his expression as he took my face in his hands, cradling it like some kind of precious thing.
"I want you to please stop running and just let me love you. That's all I'm asking." His voice broke at the end of his speech, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on my tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, I know you have been holding everything together for so long by yourself. I know that because we are the same, you and I.”
I sniffed, letting his strong hands cradle my face. “You aren’t any better than me at that, Sebastian Quinn.”
A sad smile tugged at the side of his mouth, his thumb making little circles on the edge of my jaw. “I know. We take care of everyone else. And I just thought that maybe we could take care of each other."
A dam broke within me and I was in his arms before I knew what I was doing, breathing in his clean, woodsy scent and feeling the solid form of him against me. Fingers tangled in my hair, loosening the already messy braid as Sebastian held me so close as though afraid I would disappear right in front of him.
"I don't know what I'm doing," I chokingly whispered into his chest, and I clung to him. "I'm afraid I'll mess it all up."
Drawing me back, he gave me no warning as he pressed his lips to mine. I had been standing on my tiptoes as it was, and his arms wrapped around my middle, keeping me steady as he softly brushed his lips over mine.
"Georgia, you've already trusted me with your body and your reputation." I shivered at the thought of his mouth in other places, his hands gripping my hips so securely. "Now, please just trust me that I'm not going anywhere."
It was my turn to kiss him, to bring his head down towards me. It was new—us kissing. I knew his body so well, the way to draw out moans and lightly scratch his back as I arched my own to bring him in deeper. How to blink up at him while his cock was buried in my throat and whimper the way he loved.
But this? It felt new, and it felt forbidden. It was like a drug, and all I wanted was to explore him more. Not just his body. But him, Sebastian Quinn.I wanted to know his favorite color, his favorite childhood movie and favorite flavor of ice cream. I wanted him .
The sound of a throat being deliberately cleared had me pulling away from him, stumbling slightly as I wiped my tear-stained face on the back of my cardigan to see Emma with her brows raised high and her arms crossed.
"So I see you've met the new owner of the building." She had a batch of paperwork in her hands, signed in her neat scroll amidst the sea of legal jargon.
"New owner? I don't understand—" I looked up at Sebastian, who had the decency to look uncomfortable. Emma leaned over me to hand over the paperwork to the taller man, who took it with an awkward thank-you.
"Sebastian, what is she talking about?" I looked between my boss and…whatever Sebastian was…in obvious confusion.
"Listen, after everything with my grandfather—which obviously I'll fill you in on," he quickly added at the raise of my eyebrows, "—I have a lot of investments from my…business. One of my newest acquisitions is this building. The whole thing."
My heart skipped a beat as I regarded him, confusion giving way to an overwhelming clarity. "But why?" I needed him to say it.
"Georgia, this stretch of the block is a developer's wet dream, okay? Especially after my grandfather's real estate was under such scrutiny, I got a good deal from the COO. My uncle." He handed me the paperwork, looking uncharacteristically apprehensive. "It'll keep Hemingway's safe, and the rest of the businesses too."
I scanned the documents, not really knowing what I was reading. "But Sebastian, why?" It was when I got to the last page that I stopped, the blood draining from my face as I turned to Emma, who had a soft smile on her face. "Emma, what is this?"
The older woman took out the key from her belt, not the copy, but the master key. The brass item dangled between us, the rainbow flag keychain suspiciously absent as she set it in my hand, closing my fingers around it.
"I'm retiring, Georgia; it was always the plan to pass it on to you. If you want it." Her voice was soft and full of emotion, brimming just below the surface. "Mr. Quinn here wanted it in a contract that it would pass to you since I didn't already have a directive. He just didn't know I would be ready so soon. He didn’t want me to tell you, wanted me to get full credit. But I had a sinking suspicion about you two.”
My mouth opened and closed as I looked at the key in my trembling hands. "Sebastian, did you just buy me a bookstore?"
"Yeah…" Pausing, he passed over the rest of the bundle of papers, he added, quickly. "If you want it." I was crying in earnest now, my arms wrapping around Emma as she let out a surprised laugh; patting my back, I wrapped my head around everything that was happening.
When I finally let my old boss go, she squeezed my hand and looked up towards Sebastian. "I'm going on my last lunch break. Let you guys talk ." Emma looked as if she was trying to hide a smile as she walked past, all but giving me a thumbs up as she walked out the door, the jingle of the bell announcing her exit.
We were alone. In Hemingway's. In my Hemingway's.
"Say it."
Turning to Sebastian, the deed to the business still cradled to my chest as I wiped the tears away once again, knowing that I was smearing whatever makeup I had left from the night before. The taller man stepped closer to me, backing me up until I hit the counter, his large arms caging me in as he leaned forward, the absolute lust apparent in his eyes. But the closer I looked, there was more than just passion. It looked like…love.
Dipping his head, I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he moved at the last minute to whisper in my ear, his breath hot against the nape of my neck as he bent over me. "Say my name, say I can have you." My stomach flipped at the sound of his deep voice so close, the overwhelming scent of him. "Georgia, please.”
The sound had my toes curling in my shoes and I leaned into him, his lips brushing against my neck, against my jaw.
"Sebas—"
I never finished the sentence because his mouth was covering mine, swallowing the remaining syllables. I wrapped my arms around his neck, scattering the papers and key to the ground as he lifted me up on the counter so I could wrap my legs around him.
It's not like I could be given a bookstore without christening it, right? Well, the first time didn't count. Because this time? There were no cameras. This time? It was just for us.