7. Flick
Flick
After saying goodbye to Hannah, I decide to take a different route home. This one is a little easier, more of a straight line, but it takes longer. It doesn’t help that my chest protests each step, and I have to walk slower than normal. At least I can enjoy the scenery along the way.
A cool breeze wafts through downtown, carrying the salt-tinged air from the harbor. Laughter spills out of the restaurants on the corner—trivia night is in full swing somewhere, and someone just got an answer spectacularly wrong judging by the groans that follow.
Memories of Sebastian—his laugh, his kiss, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles—make something flutter in my chest. The feeling catches me off guard, like missing a step going downstairs.
I press my hand against my sternum, but this time it’s not from pain.
I’m aching to be pressed up against him again, his hands on my hips, his breath mingled with mine.
I haven’t thought too much about what I learned at our chronic crafting meetup—that Sebastian was married.
The word sits heavy in my mind, like a skein of wool that’s been soaked through.
While sitting there purling, I realized that it’s way too easy for me to jump to conclusions.
Just like I used to misread code when I’d work too late, seeing bugs that weren’t there.
I don’t know what Sebastian is looking for, and it’s too early to even put expectations on what we’re doing.
The only knowns are that I like him, he seems to like me, and we’re having a good time. That’s enough for me.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Tonight, the plan is to meet at my condo and go from there, which gives me some time to change into an outfit a little sexier than jeans and a T-shirt.
The dye stain on my shirt catches the streetlight—cerulean blue, from one of this morning’s batches.
Just as I’m about to reach the end of the block, though, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Pulling it out, I find a text from Sebastian.
Can you meet me at the clinic?
I bite my lip, considering if I should still go ahead and run home.
The mirror in my bathroom would tell me exactly how disheveled I look.
But it only takes about two seconds to decide that I don’t want to waste even another fifteen minutes.
I would show up wearing a potato sack if it meant I got to see Sebastian even a little bit earlier.
I’ll be there in five.
Turning around, I head for the clinic, which is right by the bridge to the mainland. If he wants me to meet him there, it probably means we’re going to walk across the bridge and have dinner somewhere in Portsmouth.
Which is fine by me. I love Pine Island, but it can sometimes get a little crowded—which is a nice way of saying that everyone here is nosy.
When I reach the vet, Sebastian is standing outside looking at his phone, illuminated by the old-fashioned street lamp.
The golden light casts shadows that accentuate the line of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders.
I savor this moment before he notices me, drinking in his lean physique and muscular arms. And that dark stubble on his face.
.. I suppress a shiver at the delicious thoughts running through my mind.
I could just stand here and stare at him all night, but I also love it when he looks up and his gaze catches mine. Something sparks there—excitement and pure joy—and when he steps forward into the glow of the light, I can see a flash of desire in his eyes that makes my knees go weak.
I’m locked in his gaze, unable to move forward, because I’m suddenly so taken aback, so.
..shaken by my own answering desire. My body responds before my mind can catch up—heartbeat accelerating, skin flushing, every nerve suddenly awake.
I have never had such a physical reaction to a man before, especially one I hardly know.
There is some unknown force that already has me tethered to him, and I’m both wary and thrilled at the possibilities of what’s to come.
He is carving a path right into my heart with the precision of a surgeon, and I don’t understand it. Maybe it’s that I’ve gone too long without dating or sex. Work has been crazy, orders piling up faster than I can fill them, and there just aren’t that many guys my age on Pine Island.
I’ve probably been ignoring the need to be around men, burying myself in color formulas and streaming schedules. So of course I’m going to have such a physical response to Sebastian. He’s one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Hey,” he breathes, stepping close. I catch his scent—antiseptic soap mixed with something warmer, distinctly him.
“Hi.” Is that my voice? It sounds so squeaky and high-pitched, like I’ve inhaled helium.
But that can’t be right. I never get nervous on dates. I always feel confident, in charge, excited. Never, ever nervous. Control has always been my comfort zone.
Sebastian kisses my cheek, his lips lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary, then steps back to look at me. His eyes scan my face like he’s memorizing every detail. “God, you look great.”
I laugh out loud, the sound echoing around us. “Are you serious? I’m wearing jeans, and there’s dye on this shirt.”
He shakes his head, gaze steady on my face. “It doesn’t matter.”
I bite into my smile as I realize his compliment is genuine. This guy is really into me, sees past the mess to something else, and it feels amazing. Especially since I’m into him too.
“I just want you to know I did plan on changing,” I say, gesturing at my messy ensemble. “I wasn’t going to show up to our date looking like a slob.”
“You look beautiful, Flick. But if you’re worried about others seeing you this way, don’t be.” His hand finds mine, and instinctively, my fingers curl around his. His palm is warm, slightly rough. Working hands.
“Where are we going?” I start walking to the bridge, its lights reflecting on the dark water below.
But he gently tugs me in another direction, away from the bridge and deeper into the clinic property.
“The supplies shed behind the clinic.”
“Um... Okay.” I try not to look disappointed, but seriously... What the hell is going on here? My mind races through possibilities—each more unlikely than the last.
“I promise, I’m not going to harm you.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles, a soothing gesture.
I huff out a short laugh. “I wasn’t even thinking that. But I’ve got to admit, I am curious.” I give him the side-eye and purse my lips, watching him try to contain his laughter. “Hey, you’re the one who brought it up. Now I’m wondering if I should have left a note about where I went.”
He chuckles, the sound rich and warm, and leads me around the clinic and to the yard behind it.
The property is bigger than I realized, stretching back toward a copse of pine trees.
“It’s just the best place I know of that’s quiet and private.
The shed has air and heat, by the way. It should be perfectly comfortable. ”
I nod, choosing just to wait and see what he has in store.
My mind drifts to less innocent possibilities.
Really, I don’t care. He could be taking me back to the shed in the hopes of hooking up, and I would be so for it.
I already know I want to sleep with him.
The thought sends heat through me that has nothing to do with the mild evening.
Which does lead me back to a real issue...
Are we on the same page? A few minutes ago, I had myself convinced that it didn’t matter, but actually standing next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body, has me going in reverse. He’s clearly very into me, and I don’t want to let him down if it ends up we want different things.
There’s really no way of knowing since we haven’t talked about what we’re looking for when it comes to dating.
I have my fingers crossed that he doesn’t want anything serious or long-term, but you never know.
Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves.
Others, like me, keep them locked up tighter than valuable mohair in a humidity-controlled room.
He unlocks the door with a key from his pocket, and I’m spared from thinking any more.
The shed is larger than I expected. Shelves with veterinary supplies line the walls in neat rows, but in the middle of the room, two benches have been pushed together and covered with a flannel blanket and a few pillows.
Flameless candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, and Chinese takeout cartons sit on a folding table.
The smell of sesame oil and ginger makes my mouth water.
“What’s this?” I step into the one-room building, taking in every detail.
“Romance...hopefully.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking younger, almost vulnerable.
“It is romantic.” I bump my shoulder against his, warmth spreading through my chest. “Thank you. This is... No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”
“I went to Egg Drop, Stop, and Roll and got you all your favorite dishes. Sesame noodles. Seaweed salad. Miso soup.”
A familiar smell makes my stomach growl, and I follow it to a carton. Popping the top open, I find my favorite of favorites. “Pork fried rice?”
“Of course.”
I shake my head, overwhelmed. “Thank you, but...how did you know this is what I like?”
“I called Hannah. I have her number from when she and Michael brought their dog in for vaccines. It’s not really how we’re supposed to use patients’ numbers...” He looks sheepish, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “But I thought she wouldn’t mind.”
“This is sweet.” Unexpectedly, I feel like crying. The pressure builds behind my eyes, and I have to blink hard. I can’t remember the last time anyone did something this kind and personal for me.
“I’m glad you like it.” He opens a cooler tucked in the corner. “Sparkling water?”
“Yes. Please.”