Chapter 39
thirty-nine
INDIGO
I’ve been holed up in our rental while Bash is on the road, but I’m going stir-crazy and my word counts have suffered.
I need a change of scenery.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Lola asks, her brow furrowed in an uncharacteristically serious expression.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s just a coffee shop.
And it’s not like there have been any paparazzi camped out outside of our rental or anything.
I think I was worried about nothing. This isn’t LA.
” Shoving my laptop and notebook into my backpack, I get ready to leave for the coffee shop.
I need to get some writing done, and for whatever reason, I’ve been most productive there.
And if it’s working, I won’t change my routine because a few people on the internet are interested in my relationship.
“Okay, well, call me if you need me. I still think you should take the car, but if you run into issues, I’ll come pick you up.”
“It’s too nice to drive,” I tell her, pulling her into a hug before slinging the bag onto my back. “Seriously, it’ll be fine. And I need to distract myself while Bash is in the air. Knowing I get to see him later has me antsy.”
“A few days without the dick, and you’re losing your damned mind. He has you dicknotized.” Finally, Lola’s frown morphs into an amused smile. “I mean, I don’t get it, but if it makes you happy.”
“You’re ridiculous and I love you. And I am not dicknotized.”
“You are, but it’s fine if you’re in denial.”
I laugh at the way she waggles her eyebrows at me.
Honestly, she’s not wrong. I am more than a little obsessed with Sebastian, and I’m a pretty big fan of his dick.
I don’t know many people attracted to men who wouldn’t be, if they were given a chance to experience the glory that is Sebastian Navarro in bed.
“Be careful,” Lola says. “Promise you’ll call if you need me.”
“I won’t need you. Now stop worrying and go get some work done. See you later.” I slip out the door before she can try to talk me out of it again.
The early summer sun kisses my skin as I begin my walk through the neighborhood, the humidity a hug.
A slightly uncomfortable one, but a hug nonetheless.
My mind wanders as the dappled sunlight on the sidewalk creates a hypnotic effect, and my thoughts are split between the small-town romance I’m working on and Sebastian.
I think about him a lot these days. And it’s worse when he’s on the road.
They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and I suppose that’s true, but if I’m not careful, it also gives me a tummy ache.
Logically, I know that distance won’t change anything, but the instinctive part of my brain is always bracing for disappointment.
I’m working on it, but it’s a process.
By the time I make it to The Bean House, I’ve gotten my anxiety under control and pushed my sexy boyfriend from my thoughts in favor of my characters and the book I’m so close to finishing.
We’re at the part I love: when the couple is deeply in love, but the world is about to throw them a curveball.
I’m not sure if it’s an author thing or an I’ve-been-hurt-too-many-times thing, but some sadistic part of me really enjoys making the shit hit the fan.
Then again, maybe I enjoy the breakdown because it makes the happily ever that much sweeter.
By the time I sit down with my coffee and get myself situated, my back to the window in my favorite little spot by the wall to avoid any distractions, my mind is whirring with ways to refine my original ideas and make the payoff even sweeter.
Conversation around me fades to a low-level hum that’s easily overpowered by my headphones and writing playlist, and I hardly notice the people around me as they come and go. They could break out in a group dance, and I don’t think it would pull my attention away from my manuscript.
These are the moments I live for. When my surroundings blur and I lose myself in the world I’ve created.
When the characters’ voices are loud in my head, and each of their emotions filter through me before making their way to the screen through my fingers.
When I feel more like a conduit than a writer.
Hours later, I’m almost done with my second chapter for the day when a text notification pops up on my laptop screen. Which means it’s Sebastian. I have everyone else on do not disturb mode, so they don’t mess with my concentration, but not Bash.
He can break my concentration any day.
Sebastian
We just landed. Are you at home? I’m coming to wherever you are. Can’t wait even an extra hour to see you.
My chest expands, filling with warmth and light, and I probably have a goofy smile on my face, but I couldn’t care less. He can’t wait to see me, and I feel the same.
Me
I’m at the coffee shop, writing. The Bean House. I walked, so you can come pick me up if you want. We can go to my place or yours. Celebrate your win last night.
Sebastian
On my way. Don’t move that cute ass of yours, Rosebud.
Me
Wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t speed.
Sebastian
It would be worth the ticket to see you quicker.
Me
Won’t be quicker if you have to stop for a ticket. LOL.
Sebastian
Quit being so logical when I’m trying to be romantic.
Me
Sorry, babe. Get all the tickets you want. See you soon.
Grinning, I look up from my computer to crack my neck and do some quick stretching so I don’t end up with a tension headache. The cafe is busy, and so are the sidewalks outside. Not that I’m surprised. It’s such a nice day. Who wouldn’t want to get out and enjoy it?
I smile when I make eye contact with a few of the other patrons because this is the Midwest and people do that here.
Am I becoming a Midwesterner? I think I might be, and I’m not mad about it.
There’s no way I would have been able to sit this long in a coffee shop in LA, unbothered, in the midst of my parents’ drama and my newly public relationship with a pro hockey player.
If people have recognized me today, they’ve been quiet about it.
The blood in my veins hums a happy tune as I shake myself out and try to push away the thought of Sebastian driving toward me so I can finish this chapter.
It’s not quite the flow state I was in before he texted, but I manage to type the final word just as a deep, familiar voice breaks through my concentration.
“Hey, beautiful.” Warm breath fans over my ear and cheek, followed by the soft press of lips. “God, I missed you.”
It feels like the world is in slow motion as I turn to face him.
I don’t care that we’re in a coffee shop or that people may be watching when I let out a happy little sound and press myself to Sebastian’s chest as he opens his arms for a hug.
He’s solid and warm, and the spicy scent of his cologne gives me an instant dopamine hit.
“You’re here.”
Letting me go, Sebastian folds himself into the seat beside me. “I didn’t even get any tickets.”
That makes me laugh, and a few patrons turn our way, but I ignore them. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, baby. I’m going to grab a coffee.” He picks up my cup and gives it a little shake. “Do you need another one before we go?”
“Sure. How about an Americano?”
Sebastian leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. “You got it. Be right back. Do you need time to finish up whatever you were working on?”
“Nope. I’m at a natural stopping point.”
“Good. I’ll get us coffees, we can hang out for a bit, and then I’m going to take you to my house and have my way with you.” He winks at me and walks away before I can respond.
Heads turn as Sebastian walks past. While I’m sure some of the people here recognize him, mostly he just has this presence about him.
Strong, sure, confident. He walks with the calm assuredness of someone who knows who he is and where he fits into the world.
And it doesn’t hurt that he’s tall, built, and gorgeous.
I wish I had even a fraction of his confidence.
A middle-aged woman watches Sebastian’s ass when he walks past her. Her cheeks flame scarlet when she notices me watching, and I give her a conspiratorial grin. I can’t even blame her. Hockey asses are the best asses. The one exception might be rugby players.
Rugby really needs to catch on in the US. That’s a sport I could get behind.
Giggling to myself, I admire my boyfriend as he charms the baristas and swoon a little when he walks back to the table, coffee in hand and the sweetest secret smile just for me.
How is this my life?
“Coffee for my baby,” he murmurs, setting the cup down in front of me. “Did you get a lot done today?”
“I did, actually. It was a good day.” I take a sip of the Americano and grin at him over the lid. “Better now, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. I mean, I got free coffee, which is pretty sweet.” I lift the cup and give it a gentle shake.
“Wow. I see how it is. More excited about the free coffee than to see your boyfriend.”
My stomach does a pleasant little flip when the word boyfriend rolls so easily off his lips. That’s never going to get old. “I guess seeing my boyfriend is nice too.”
God, the way the world falls away when he throws his head back and laughs. He’s so handsome, it’s unreal.
“All right, ballbuster. Let’s go. I don’t want to wait anymore. Time to get you home and naked in my bed.”
Sebastian says the words quietly, but my cheeks still heat as my belly swoops. Glancing around us, I make sure no one else heard what he said as he chuckles. People are watching us, but it’s more of a general curiosity mixed in with some recognition. I think we’re safe.
“All right. Take me home, crab boy.”
“No, baby.” Bash groans. “It’s one thing when Lola calls me that, but it’s a real boner-killer when you do.”
I smirk. “You’re welcome, then. I don’t think you’d want to walk out of here with a stiffy. Too many people watching.”
I love the way his eyes sparkle as he shakes his head with amusement at me. “You’re something else, Indigo Bloom.”
I’m flying high when he takes my hand and leads me out of the cafe. At least until someone calls our names.
“Sebastian. Indigo. Over here!”
Turning, my stomach curdles when a man shoves a camera in our faces and the flash goes off.
Not here too. This can’t be happening.
“Are you out on a date?” There’s only one photographer, but he’s loud, and heads turn our way.
All-too familiar discomfort has me lowering my head. I won’t give him another usable photo if I can help it. These guys are parasites.
Sebastian steps in front of me, hand still firmly wrapped around mine, and holds his other out in front of him. “Hey, man, step back, okay?”
“How did you two meet?” the photographer asks, ignoring Bash. He doesn’t press any closer, but he doesn’t step back, either, and I grimace at the rapid-fire clicks of the camera’s shutter closing and opening.
Bash ignores him and pulls me into the coffee shop’s parking lot toward his car. Keeping himself between me and the photographer, he unlocks the car and ushers me inside before asking the pap to back off one more time. The guy fires off a couple more photos before stepping back onto the sidewalk.
At least the Midwest paparazzo aren’t as aggressive as the ones in LA.
Still, my hands tremble as I twist them in my lap. I was trying to escape this kind of thing. The intrusive questions, the cameras shoved in your face, the lack of privacy or human decency.
I suppose you can run from your problems, but sometimes they chase after you.
“You okay?” Sebastian frowns as he climbs into the driver’s seat, looks me over to make sure I’m buckled, then starts the car. “I don’t know where that guy came from.”
“I’m fine.” And I am. Mostly. Hopefully, that was a one-off. But how did he find us?
“Are you sure? That felt violating.”
“I’m sure. I’ve been through worse.”
“Jesus, Indie.” He reaches over the center console and takes my hand. “I’m so sorry. All the years you’ve had to deal with shit like that…” His face crumples into something pained. “I should have been there to protect you.”
Despite the lingering flush of adrenaline and anxiety, his words wrap around me like a hug.
We’re ambushed by a photographer, and his first thought is for me.
His first instinct was to put himself between me and the threat.
To be angry for me. To regret that he wasn’t there to stand between me and situations like that, even though I was the one who caused our separation.
God, I love him.
“You’re here, now. That’s all that matters.”
Bash squeezes my hand. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again, baby. You’re stuck with me.”
Shaky laughter spills from my lips. The euphoria of what he’s saying clashes with the jittery feeling that accompanies coming down from an adrenaline spike. “Promise?”
“I promise. You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s always been that way, even those years we were apart. We’re a package deal, Indie. There’s no me without you.”
Tears pool in my eyes, but I blink them away. “Same.”
I always felt like a piece of me was missing after I ran that summer, and I finally have it back. I won’t let anyone take that from me. Not even myself.
I only hope today was a blip on the radar. A one-off. A minor annoyance.
Only time will tell.