Page 89
Story: Closer
“See anything you like?” He’s put on a pair of sweatpants, but his chest is still bare.
My eyes betray me by roaming over his toned abs. “Your clothes won’t fit. I’d rather have mine.”
“Suit yourself. But I have to say, you look pretty good in my sheets.” He reaches out and tugs playfully at my toga.
I bat his hand away. “Stop it. Last night was… it was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“A mistake?” His expression hardens. “Funny, that’s not the impression I got when you were coming on my cock.”
I flinch, my face burning. Again. “That’s not… I wasn’t…” I twist the sheets in my hands, trying to hold onto control. “Look, we both know thisisn’t going to work. We’ve tried before, and it ended badly. I can’t do that again.”
“Who says it has to end badly this time?” He moves closer. “And last time we tried, we didn’t even get to finish the weekend. So, technically, nothing ended badly.”
I take a step back, needing space. This is all too much. Too confusing. Too raw. “I can’t do this, Sebastian. I… I need to go.” I turn to leave, but his hand on my arm stops me.
“Go where Lil? Back to that apartment? Alone?”
I shrug off his touch. “I’ll crash at Mary’s. It’s fine.”
“Do you really want to be the third wheel in their love nest?”
He has a point. Mary and Connor are in that honeymoon phase. All lovey-dovey and handsy. The last thing I want is a front-row seat to their happiness.
“Look, stay here for a bit.” His tone is casual, but there’s an undercurrent of something else. Pleading? Hope? “I have plenty of space. You don’t even have to see me if you don’t want to. Think of me as your… roommate.”
I chew on my lip, considering. The thought of going back to my place makes my skin crawl. Being near Sebastian doesn’t sound so bad. Despite everything, he’s always made me feel safe. Protected.
“I don’t…”
“Lil, please. Let me do this for you.” There’s a rawness in his expression that tugs at my heart.
Maybe it’s the Regency novel lover in me, but the idea of playing house with Sebastian for a little while is tempting. To pretend that we’re two normal people living together like any other couple. Maybe it could work?
My shoulders slump. “Okay. I’ll stay. But just for a little while. Until I figure things out.”
“Perfect.” He rummages through some drawers and pulls out a large black t-shirt, tossing it to me. “Here. This should work as a dress on you.”
I catch it and rub the soft fabric between my fingertips. It smells like him—expensive cologne and something uniquely Sebastian. I hate how much I like it.
“I don’t have any women’s underwear, but I can give you a pair of boxers if you’d prefer not to go without.”
“I’ll try my luck,” I mumble.
“Pity, I would have loved knowing you weren’t wearing any.” Sebastian’s voice drops, a teasing lilt coloring his words. He opens a drawer and takes out a pair of black boxers, holding them out to me with a wink. “I hope these fit.”
“Thanks.” I give him an obvious fake smile.
“Take your time. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
After he leaves, I take a quick shower and change into his clothes. As predicted, the boxers are too big, so I stick with the shirt that falls mid-thigh.
The aroma of coffee leads me to the kitchen, where Sebastian is scrambling eggs at the stove.
“Smells good,” I say.
He glances up from the pan and studies me with a knowing smirk, as if he knows exactly that I’m not wearing any underwear. “And? Did they fit?”
“Maybe.” I mirror his expression, the corners of my mouth lifting in playful defiance.
My eyes betray me by roaming over his toned abs. “Your clothes won’t fit. I’d rather have mine.”
“Suit yourself. But I have to say, you look pretty good in my sheets.” He reaches out and tugs playfully at my toga.
I bat his hand away. “Stop it. Last night was… it was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“A mistake?” His expression hardens. “Funny, that’s not the impression I got when you were coming on my cock.”
I flinch, my face burning. Again. “That’s not… I wasn’t…” I twist the sheets in my hands, trying to hold onto control. “Look, we both know thisisn’t going to work. We’ve tried before, and it ended badly. I can’t do that again.”
“Who says it has to end badly this time?” He moves closer. “And last time we tried, we didn’t even get to finish the weekend. So, technically, nothing ended badly.”
I take a step back, needing space. This is all too much. Too confusing. Too raw. “I can’t do this, Sebastian. I… I need to go.” I turn to leave, but his hand on my arm stops me.
“Go where Lil? Back to that apartment? Alone?”
I shrug off his touch. “I’ll crash at Mary’s. It’s fine.”
“Do you really want to be the third wheel in their love nest?”
He has a point. Mary and Connor are in that honeymoon phase. All lovey-dovey and handsy. The last thing I want is a front-row seat to their happiness.
“Look, stay here for a bit.” His tone is casual, but there’s an undercurrent of something else. Pleading? Hope? “I have plenty of space. You don’t even have to see me if you don’t want to. Think of me as your… roommate.”
I chew on my lip, considering. The thought of going back to my place makes my skin crawl. Being near Sebastian doesn’t sound so bad. Despite everything, he’s always made me feel safe. Protected.
“I don’t…”
“Lil, please. Let me do this for you.” There’s a rawness in his expression that tugs at my heart.
Maybe it’s the Regency novel lover in me, but the idea of playing house with Sebastian for a little while is tempting. To pretend that we’re two normal people living together like any other couple. Maybe it could work?
My shoulders slump. “Okay. I’ll stay. But just for a little while. Until I figure things out.”
“Perfect.” He rummages through some drawers and pulls out a large black t-shirt, tossing it to me. “Here. This should work as a dress on you.”
I catch it and rub the soft fabric between my fingertips. It smells like him—expensive cologne and something uniquely Sebastian. I hate how much I like it.
“I don’t have any women’s underwear, but I can give you a pair of boxers if you’d prefer not to go without.”
“I’ll try my luck,” I mumble.
“Pity, I would have loved knowing you weren’t wearing any.” Sebastian’s voice drops, a teasing lilt coloring his words. He opens a drawer and takes out a pair of black boxers, holding them out to me with a wink. “I hope these fit.”
“Thanks.” I give him an obvious fake smile.
“Take your time. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
After he leaves, I take a quick shower and change into his clothes. As predicted, the boxers are too big, so I stick with the shirt that falls mid-thigh.
The aroma of coffee leads me to the kitchen, where Sebastian is scrambling eggs at the stove.
“Smells good,” I say.
He glances up from the pan and studies me with a knowing smirk, as if he knows exactly that I’m not wearing any underwear. “And? Did they fit?”
“Maybe.” I mirror his expression, the corners of my mouth lifting in playful defiance.
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