23 #2
The call ends. And just like that, I’m left staring at my reflection in the window, flushed cheeks and all, wondering when the hell a single voice became the thing that could unravel me so easily.
The sound of tyres on gravel pulls me from my thoughts. A car door slams. Then another.
I barely have time to move before Sebastian’s presence fills the house.
A moment later, he’s in the doorway, eyes scanning the room.
The second they land on Teddy, on the lounge with his tiny fleet of toy cars lined up, something in him unravels.
His shoulders drop. His jaw loosens. Relief bleeds through him.
He’s across the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees in front of his son. “Hey, mate. You okay?”
Teddy stiffens for a moment before pressing his face into his father’s chest. His arms wrap around Sebastian’s neck and hold on like he’s anchoring himself.
Sebastian clutches him close, brushing his fingers through his hair, whispering words too quiet for me to hear.
When he finally looks up, his gaze finds mine.
“I didn’t say this before, but… thank you.”
“For what?”
“For dropping everything to get him.”
My throat feels tight. “Just doing my job.”
The words come out too easily, too light for the weight they carry. It sounds like an excuse, not the truth. I clear my throat. “I wanted to. He’s… important to me too,” I add, quieter this time.
Something in his expression shutters. He swallows, nods once, and the tension in the room finally starts to ease.
Dinner happens quickly. Sebastian reheats leftover pasta, Teddy insisting on sprinkling the parmesan.
I contribute nothing but a random fact about wombats having cube-shaped poo.
Teddy snorts, covering his mouth with both hands.
Sebastian doesn’t even look up. “Of course you know that.”
I grin, sinking into the chair across from them.
Sebastian leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Hey, bud. Wanna tell me what happened at school today?”
Teddy shrugs, eyes fixed on his fork. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Sebastian echoes gently.
Teddy doesn’t look up. Doesn’t speak. Just keeps stabbing at his pasta like it personally offended him.
I nudge him gently under the table with my knee. “Hey,” I say softly, tilting my head until I’m in his periphery. “Something happened today that made you feel sad, huh? And that’s okay. Was it school work?” I pause, watching him closely. “Or… did someone say something that didn’t feel very nice?”
His eyes flick up. “A boy said… He said, I don’t have a mummy. And that’s why she never comes to school things.”
My chest caves in.
The silence that follows is too loud. I glance at Sebastian, and my pulse skitters because his eyes are already on mine. I swallow hard, forcing my face to stay calm for him, even though something inside me fractures.
“That wasn’t a kind thing to say,” I murmur.
He nods once, still not meeting my eyes.
“You’ve got your dad,” I offer, gently, “and that doesn’t make you any less special, okay? Not one bit.”
Teddy nods, eyes still downcast. Sebastian looks at me. “Hey, you’ve got Olivia too, remember?”
I freeze.
Finally, Teddy looks up, and there’s something in his eyes that shatters me clean in two. “You’re not gonna leave, are you? You’re staying forever?”
I look at Sebastian instinctively, but his face is unreadable, carved in stone. There’s so much hanging in the air between us, none of it safe enough to name out loud.
“I’ll be around,” I manage, voice thick. “I promise.”
He nods like that’s all he needs, then goes right back to his pasta, like the world’s been put back in order. I, however, can’t seem to breathe properly.
The weight of Sebastian’s gaze lingers long after we finish eating.
It pins me to the chair, presses against the edges of my chest until I want to squirm, but I don’t.
We clean up in silence. He washes, I dry.
The rhythm is easy, too easy. Familiar. His elbow bumps mine, and he mutters a quiet sorry, but it doesn’t feel like a mistake.
It feels like something else. Something warmer.
Something slower. Something I shouldn’t let myself feel.
My ovaries? Absolutely losing it. Hush.
I’m just stacking the last plate when Teddy pipes up from the lounge. “Can we watch a movie before bed?”
“It’ll get too late, mate,” Sebastian calls over his shoulder without hesitation. “Plus, Olivia might need to—”
“You really do love making decisions for everyone, don’t you?” I shoot him a look over my shoulder.
He raises a brow, one hand on his hip. “Force of habit.”
“Well,” I say, chin tilting defiantly, “the answer’s yes.”
Teddy lights up, and Sebastian exhales loudly through his nose.
“What movie are we watching?” I ask, ignoring him entirely.
By the time Simba’s halfway through ‘Hakuna Matata’, Teddy’s snuggled against my stomach, limbs slack, mouth slightly open.
Completely out. His soft, sleepy breaths warm the fabric of my shirt, and honestly?
I’m kind of melting. Sebastian muttered something earlier about betrayal.
Something dramatic about his only son abandoning him for a newer, shinier model.
“Traitor,” he grumbled, a smirk tugging at his stupidly perfect mouth. “Didn’t take you long to replace me. Figures you’d pick the pretty one.”
Pretty one.
Excuse me?
I’d laughed it off at the time, tried to play it cool, but now?
I can’t even pretend to focus on the movie.
Not with him sitting beside me like this—legs spread, posture relaxed, one arm casually thrown across the back of the couch.
He’s close enough that if I lean even a little to the left, my shoulder will brush his.
And now that I’m aware of it, I can’t stop noticing.
The heat of him. The steady rise and fall of his breathing.
The occasional shift that makes the cushions dip just enough to remind me he’s right there.
When I move to get more comfortable, one leg starting to cramp under Teddy’s weight, his voice rumbles beside me.
“Cold?”
“Maybe a little,” I say, even though I’m not. Not even remotely.
Sebastian grabs the throw from beside him, gives it a little shake, then drapes it over the both of us. His fingers skim my knee on the way down, and I have to physically bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting.
Teddy’s out cold now, tucked under his own little blanket cocoon. We should probably move him to bed, but neither of us does. The movie keeps playing, the glow from the screen casting flickering colours over the room, and we just… sit. Like this. It’s domestic. It’s comfortable. It’s dangerous.
My positioning is awkward, one leg half-tucked under me, and I’m hyper-aware of it now. Then, as if he hopped right into my mind and heard my thought, Sebastian gathers my legs without warning and eases them across his lap, like he’s done it a hundred times before.
“You’ll be more comfortable like this,” he says with a finality that leaves no room for debate.
Not that I was going to protest, for the record.
His hand slips beneath the blanket and starts this slow, lazy glide along my calf.
Innocent at first. Barely there. Until it’s…
not. His palm smooths over my knee, then keeps going, tracing higher and higher until it rests just shy of the no-go zone.
And I swear to God, my entire body goes static.
My pulse hammers. My lungs forget how to do the whole inhale-exhale thing. I am no longer watching The Lion King. I am watching The Man Beside Me Turn Me Into Goo.
Of course, Teddy chooses this exact moment to shift in his sleep—a tiny noise, a little twitch of his fingers against the blanket, just enough movement to shatter the universe.
Sebastian pulls back like someone yanked him by the collar.
A faint frown pinches between his brows, his hand vanishes from beneath the blanket, and the warmth he left behind cools too quickly.
The spell snaps clean in half.
He clears his throat, his voice low. “I should take him up.”
“Right,” I say, trying not to sound like I’m mourning the moment. I drag in a breath that’s all kinds of uncooperative. “And I should probably head home before my mum calls in a search party.”
The deep timbre of his laugh slips out, the kind that buzzes low in my belly. “The joys of living at home,” he teases.
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t act like you’re some senior citizen. You’re what… thirty now?”
He tips his head, one brow arching. “Thirty-four, sweetheart.”
I blink. Huh. I’d just assumed he was younger than Bradley. Not older. Not that it makes a difference, except… it kind of does. “Oh.”
“That close enough in age to you?”
“Uh… not exactly.”
Not even a little bit.
He hums a sound—God help me, a sound that should not be that attractive coming from a man who’s got a solid seven years on me. Suddenly, I’m far too aware of the heat still lingering on my skin. Of how grounded he is. Calm. Certain. Very much a man.
And me? I feel like a girl with a teenage crush who just got caught doodling his name in the margins of her school book. Whatever delusional part of my brain that assumed he was around my brother’s age needs to pack its bags and leave immediately. It’s setting me up for disaster.
He stands and lifts Teddy with the kind of practised grace that shouldn’t be hot—but of course, it is.
The little guy melts into him instantly, mumbling something sleep-soft against his chest. Sebastian shifts his hold gently, presses a kiss to his son’s temple, and I swear, my ovaries file for early retirement.
When he looks back at me, there’s something unguarded in his expression.
“Night, Bash,” I whisper, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake Teddy.
His mouth curves. “Drive safe, Trouble.”
My fingers tighten around my keys, and I offer a small nod.
That’s all I’ve got, because my brain? Fried.
My ovaries? Screaming. And my heart? Racing like it’s trying to warn me.
Of what? Who knows. The only thing I am certain of, as he disappears up the stairs with his son cradled in his arms, is that no amount of logic is ever going to talk me out of wanting him.