Page 44 of Brick Wall

Annie

“ H ave you seen Sebastian?” I ask his sister by the dessert table, where she’s grabbing a brownie off a platter.

“No.” Scarlett shakes her head.

Hmm, weird. Scarlett is the third person I’ve asked who hasn’t seen him. I haven’t seen Sebastian since he headed to the bathroom over twenty minutes ago, leaving me at the bar awaiting his return.

I head back to our round dinner table, where my small purse is under my chair. I grab my phone and open it to find a few texts from Sebastian from fifteen minutes ago.

Sebastian: I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well Sebastian: I’m going home to rest

Um, what? Why didn’t he come get me? I would have obviously left with him, or helped, or anything, really. Why didn’t he tell me in person?

Sebastian: I’m sorry. Bryce said that he could give you a ride home tonight Sebastian: Hope you enjoy the rest of your night

He hopes that I enjoy the rest of my night? That’s not likely, especially knowing he’s sick at home. I tuck my phone back in my purse and throw my bag over my shoulder. I head to the coat check, hand a woman my number, and request a ride from my phone while I wait.

When I make eye contact with Scarlett from across the room and give her a quick goodbye wave, she hurries her way over to me.

“Sebastian texted me and said he left because he was sick?” My question comes out like an awkward question. I’m honestly confused here.

“Really?” Scarlett seems taken aback a bit by my admission.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of going over there to see if he’s okay?” I share the idea out in the open with Scarlett. I need a second opinion about this because I don’t know if I’m overstepping or just…stepping correctly.

“I think you should,” Scarlett agrees with me. Her confirmation tells me I’m doing the right thing. Unfortunately, there’s no playbook when it comes to relationships.

Scarlett shuffles around in her purse for a minute and pulls out a key. “Here’s the spare key to his apartment. I think you know the guy working tonight, but I’ll call to make sure you have no problems getting up to his floor.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze Scarlett’s hand in gratitude, and she seems uncertain of the contact at first, but then squeezes back .

“Take good care of him,” she sincerely says. “He’s stupid and stubborn sometimes,” she adds as I’m turning to leave.

“I will,” I promise, and then I head out to find my sick man.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I’m in Sebastian’s apartment. It was relatively easy getting here and getting in; everything is aligning just right.

I tiptoe around his apartment and find him fast asleep in his bed.

His door is wide open, and I hear him snoring from the entryway. His sheets are thrown to the side, and he’s just lying on top of his bed, completely naked.

I try not to ogle him too much. He’s sick, dammit.

I head over to his bedside and place a light sheet across his body, but he instantly kicks it to the side. I also notice he’s not using his CPAP machine, but maybe he was too sick to remember.

I cup my hand over his forehead to check for a fever, but I can’t tell, so I gently graze my lips across his forehead instead. No fever.

Should I sleep on the couch? Should I sleep in the chair?

I’m debating my next move when his hand gently grabs me, and I hear a soft murmur, “Stay.”

“Okay,” I softly respond. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I head to the bathroom for a few minutes and then grab a shirt that smells just like Sebastian from his drawer.

I crawl into bed next to a once again snoring Sebastian and smile before falling asleep.

* * *

I wake up warm. Bash is spooning me, his beard teasing my neck. Also, he’s still naked.

I move my body a little closer to him and turn my head to see his face. His eyes are closed, and he has an adorable, content smile while he’s sleeping.

He must feel my eyes on him since he wakes up a few seconds later.

“Hey,” he says sleepily.

“Hey yourself.” I snuggle in. “How are you feeling?”

I didn’t want to disturb him too much last night as he didn’t appear to have obvious symptoms.

“Uh,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “What?” His voice is still groggy because he’s a half-asleep teddy bear right now.

“You weren’t feeling well last night and had to leave the holiday party?” I remind him. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

He sits up straight with a sudden jerk. He’s more awake and alert now.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing his face. “What are you doing here?” he questions, sounding a little more serious than usual.

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” After a beat of awkward silence, I ask, “Is that all right?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Did you have a good night? How was the rest of the party?”

“Oh, I don’t know, actually. I left a few minutes after you,” I admit.

“You did?” He seems genuinely surprised by my answer. “Why didn’t you stay and have a good time? That’s what I wanted.”

I don’t know why that last sentence he states rubs me the wrong way. That’s what he wanted?

“Well, what I wanted,” I say with a little extra sass, “was to make sure you were okay.”

“Okay,” is all he says. He’s not ice cold to me, but he’s not exactly warm either. He’s neutral, and it’s a little unsettling.

“I’m doing okay,” he says after a minute of silence between us.

“What time do you need to be at the stadium today?”

“Ten.” His body is turned to the side with his eyes staring at the light switch on the other side of the room.

I look at the clock on his end table, which reads a little after seven thirty.

“Okay. Do you need any medicine or water or anything?”

“No, thanks. I think I’m going to take a shower and then go in early,.” His tone is gruff, and his posture is stiff.

“All right, I’ll just…” I point awkwardly at the wall. I have no idea what I mean, really. I feel unwelcome here for the first time and don’t know why.

Am I missing something?

It’s hard to fix something when you don’t know what it is that’s actually broken…if anything.