Chapter 5 #2
Still smiling, she leaned forward. And before she could change her mind, she pressed her mouth to his for the first time in over fifteen years of friendship.
He froze in place. She took a split second to appreciate the plush give of his lips beneath hers, the startled rush of his breath, and the exciting brush of stubble against her cheeks.
The warm scent of sage and sea salt she’d noticed that day.
The way he tasted like mint and—something.
Like Sebastián, she supposed. Like the safest place she’d ever been.
Then she moved to his side before the kiss turned from plausibly platonic to undeniably erotic. She’d signaled her willingness. If he wanted more, he’d have to take it. He’d have to say something, do something. He’d have to take a chance and trust them both.
Chest tight, she waited for him to reach out and grab hold of her.
But he didn’t. Instead, he clambered out of the bed and strode outside, his face flushed but unreadable once more.
She gathered the tarp, palmed her worry stone, and followed him, pasting on a smile for their audience.
Of course he hadn’t grabbed hold of her. Her conviction that he wanted her as more than a friend couldn’t be trusted, because her judgment couldn’t be trusted. She was silly and na?ve and confused, as she’d been told many times before.
She should have known he wouldn’t reach for her. But it still hurt that he hadn’t.
And since she had no desire to experience that pain or overstep the bounds of friendship again, she wasn’t reaching for him a second time, whatever her foolish heart might insist. Period.
As soon as Hairy caught sight of Sebastián’s house, he began barking and leaping toward the door, like the deluded, lovesick dog he was.
She held the leash tight. Much as she hated to stymie him, she needed a few more moments before venturing inside that featureless, gray front door. Before facing an evening all alone with Sebastián and their mismatched pets.
Nothing has changed. The two of you are still friends. You’re still moving across the country. You still need to find a place to live before you go. Focus on the important bits, not on distractions.
An hour-long session with a client, a bit of meditation, and this long walk with Hairy had done her a world of good, as always.
And although living in the same house as Sebastián for the next week or so might not be the optimal way to move past her disappointment, he didn’t deserve blame for her overactive imagination.
In fact, he deserved thanks for taking her and her now pitifully whimpering dog into his home for an indeterminate number of days. She knew how she could show her appreciation.
It was going to hurt, though. For both of them.
She closed her eyes and thought about all he’d done for her, all he’d been to her, and waited until her fake smile became genuine. Then she let herself into the unlocked door, took off Hairy’s leash, and faced her friend.
Sebastián was sitting on the couch, his unreadable eyes on her. “You were gone a long time.”
“You live in a great neighborhood for walking.” She toed off her shoes, loath to damage his gleaming wooden floors. “We ended up going farther than I’d expected, just because it’s such a nice evening out.”
He acknowledged her words with a little nod. “I wondered whether you’d gotten lost.”
Hairy had bounded directly toward Kitty’s sleeping spot.
But he must have learned some discretion overnight, since he only gave her two long licks before backing just out of paw’s reach.
To Lucy’s shock, the cat didn’t hiss or yowl in response.
Instead, she stretched on her little bed, got to her feet, and padded over to the golden retriever.
Just before she’d have bumped into him, she twisted, flicked him with her tail, and presented him with her ass as she stalked away.
“For Kitty, that’s a declaration of love.” When Hairy tried to follow her and she gave him a halfhearted swipe to the nose, Sebastián amended, “A reluctant, conflicted love that might require stitches at some point, but love nonetheless.”
“So they’re set for the next hour or so, right?”
His brows pinched a millimeter. “I put out food and water for both of them, yes. Why?”
“Sit at the table, please. Unless you’d rather do this lying down.” She considered the matter. “And I need to know if you want me to use oil.”
His lips parted, and his brows shot skyward. “Uhh… Are you sure you…” He paused, cheeks flushed, and then tried again. “What?”
“You’re tight. I felt it earlier today.” Why was he giving her that dazed look? “The pain from your head injury is making you tense your shoulders, or possibly the stress of being on camera. Or maybe that pull-out couch from last night.”
Pursing his lips, he bowed his head. “My shoulders. Right.”
“So I’ll give you a massage. But you need to decide whether you want me to tackle just your back and shoulders or your full b—”
“Back and shoulders.” His voice was urgent. “Just back and shoulders.”
“Because we could use your bed, if you want a full-body massage without oil. If you do want me to use oil, I’ll grab my massage table from my car.” She’d left it in there after her session that afternoon. “Otherwise, things can get slippery and stain your sheets.”
Yeesh, he looked pained. His shoulders must really be hurting. Maybe his head too?
He held up his hands. “On second thought, I’m fine. I don’t need a massage or oil or a bed. Thank y—”
“I insist.” She refused to back down, not when her generous friend could use her talents. Especially since he’d never, ever ask for help, even when he needed it. “I’m so grateful you gave us a place to stay.”
He wet his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, and she couldn’t look away. “But you must be tired. We filmed for most of the morning and early afternoon, and then you had a session. If anything, you should get a massage.”
“I’m fine. And I know a few ways to help myself relax.” She wiggled her fingers. “I have talented hands.”
His cheeks had darkened with his flush. Was he really so embarrassed to accept assistance?
“I’m sure you do,” he said.
“I can massage a few key spots myself.”
His chin dropped to his chest. “Okay.”
“I also have a foam roller I can use.”
“How does a foam r—” He shook his head. “Never mind. My point is that I don’t need a massage, but I very much appreciate the offer. Now let’s discuss dinner options.”
“Please, Seb.” She put all her conviction into the words. “I want to do this for you. To feel like I’m contributing in some way.”
“I don’t know.” For once, his emotions had carved themselves so deeply onto his face, even a stranger could have read them. Reluctance. Worry. Longing. “This may not be a good idea.”
“It’ll be fine. I got a good night’s sleep last night, thanks to you, so I have plenty of energy. And if you let me get my hands on you, I swear you’ll feel better.” She wiggled her fingers again. “I know what I’m doing.”
His eyes shut tight for a moment. “I believe you.”
“So?”
The answer was a long time coming. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She grinned at him, delighted. “As in, okay, I can give you a massage?”
With a sigh, he opened his eyes and nodded. “Let’s do this.”