Page 31

That makes me smile. “They have never understood my passion for writing and are convinced if I just tried a little harder, I could have gone into medicine. Apparently, I just didn’t want it enough.

” Rolling my eyes, I go on. “For a while, they treated it like it was a hobby. They’ve never celebrated any of my books’ successes. ” I sigh just thinking about it.

“For what it's worth, I get it. I know what it's like to not be accepted. Not by my family, but by my peers. I know it's hard to believe, but Matt really was the one who made it possible for me to make friends. Before that, no one even saw me.”

I try to envision the two of them hanging out, but it still seems bizarre.

Reaching across the table, he gives my hand a gentle squeeze before he goes on.

“It doesn't matter really who accepts us.

I get why it's harder when you want your parents’ love and approval, but what I'm saying is that as long as we like who we are, that's really all that matters.

And for what it's worth, I think you're freaking amazing.

I am blown away by your talent and everything about you.

And if anyone else doesn't see it, then it's their loss.”

“Thanks. I know you’re right, but sometimes I just wish they would see what I do and…they don’t have to love it, but if they could respect it—respect me —it would go a long way in healing things.”

He nods; his soft gaze never leaves me.

“So, where’s home? Honestly, I don’t know. It’s why I’m okay with just moving around because I don’t have a home to go back to. What about you?”

“I live in Raleigh now but grew up in Cary. I travel a lot for work, but my parents still live in the same house I grew up in, so…this will probably always be home base for me.”

“I bet that’s nice, though. There’s a little bit of security there.

When I visit my folks, it’s just weird. I’m like an acquaintance who they let stay with them.

All of their friends are in the medical field, so they don’t really invite them over when I’m around in case I get woozy over all the blood talk. ”

“Come on,” he says with a laugh. “That can’t be true.”

“Oh, but it is. So…yeah. That’s my life.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything for a moment. He turns the conversation toward our dinner, and we realize we ordered a little too much food, but I still kind of want dessert, which is what I tell him.

“I don’t see a problem with that. I’m not so full that I can’t have either some ice cream or brownies or whatever’s inside. But we should probably wrap up what’s left here and put it in the fridge.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The only thing that’s left is half a platter of fish and chips and two shrimp tacos, so it doesn’t take long to clean up.

In the kitchen, we don’t turn on all the lights—there’s plenty shining in from the deck lighting along with the moonlight.

We efficiently put everything away and then go in search of what to have for dessert.

“We baked cupcakes earlier today. You know, before everything blew up. They’re not frosted yet, but we can do that now if you’d like.

There are also brownies—Vanessa’s idea—and there’s frosting for those too, if you’re interested. ”

“We had brownies last night, so let’s go with cupcakes tonight.”

Earlier, we had put all the cupcakes on a rack to cool and then covered them with aluminum foil until they were ready for us to frost them.

When I take the foil off, a wave of sweetness fills the air.

I busy myself with getting knives and the cans of frosting—there was no way we were going to make it ourselves from scratch—but when I look up, Sebastian’s gone.

“Ash?” I call out.

A minute later, he comes strolling back in. I can hear music playing softly—Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud”—and he’s got the unfinished bottle of wine we opened with dinner. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted another glass to go with our dessert or if you wanted something else.”

“I’m thinking maybe something else. In the last several days, I’ve had more wine than I’ve had in the last six months.”

“That’s fair.” He looks around the kitchen. “Coffee? Tea? Milk? Water?”

“I’m not sure yet. Come on. Help me with the frosting. You frost yours and I’ll frost mine.” He comes to stand beside me, and I already feel the warmth radiating off of him and I move closer.

“I don’t think I’ve ever frosted a cupcake—or anything, for that matter.”

So I show him how there’s really nothing to it, but we somehow end up with way more frosting than any one cupcake needs, along with it being all over our hands.

We laugh and playfully nudge each other, and it’s just such a simple and yet powerful moment for me.

I’m having fun with a wonderful man who I genuinely like.

The more time we spend like this, the more it hits me how all the crushes and all the times I thought I was in love before were nothing compared to this.

Maybe it’s because I’m older and I understand my emotions and my feelings.

Or perhaps I’m finally comfortable in my own skin. Either way, this just feels good.

Until he puts a dollop of frosting on my nose.

“You did not just do that,” I warn him.

He leans in close. “Yes, I did.” And another dollop lands on my chin.

“Sebastian…”

“Olivia…” he mimics my tone, and while he’s laughing, I scoop up a nice little amount of vanilla frosting and put it on his nose. His eyes go wide. “So it’s gonna be like that, is it?”

I know he’s going for intimidating, but with the frosting on his nose, it’s just adorable.

“Hey, what’s fair is fair. But I’d like it to be known that we’re wasting good frosting.”

He closes the distance between us and licks the frosting off of my chin. My head slowly lolls back, but I have enough sense to carefully wipe what’s left on the tip of my nose away. Ash lifts his head and takes my finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling to get all the sugary sweetness off of it.

Oh, my…food as foreplay. Who knew?

And who would’ve thought a kitchen would be a place to get sexy?

Although…

It’s dimly lit, with the warm glow from the stovetop clock casting soft shadows across the countertops. The scent of our now forgotten dessert lingers in the air. I know we’ll come back to it, but for now, I am more than happy to enjoy the magic that is Sebastian instead.

I lean back against the counter, my fingers tracing the cool granite surface as he presses closer. It doesn’t matter that we made love only hours ago. The heat between us has been building up again all evening, simmering beneath casual touches and stolen glances.

And now, frosting.

His hands come to rest on my waist, his fingertips brushing the soft fabric of my dress.

I tilt my head up, lips parting in anticipation as he leans in, the kiss slow and lingering, like a promise.

I love kissing this man. It is seriously the most sensual experience, and I want more of it.

I can feel my dress slowly hiking up, the fabric unhurriedly bunching up in his magnificent hands.

To keep things fair, my fingers slip beneath his shirt, tracing the warmth of his skin, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath my touch. I feel his arousal pressing against me and I can’t wait for what comes next.

The kitchen fades away—the cupcakes scattered on the island, the hum of the refrigerator, the unfinished bottle of wine on the counter.

It’s just us now, caught in the glow of our own gravity, the night stretching long and unhurried around us.

No one’s coming home tonight; no one’s going to disturb us.

There is nothing and no one else in the world right now except us.

His breath is warm against my ear as he whispers my name, a quiet plea wrapped in desire. I respond with a soft sigh, pulling him closer, surrendering to the moment as our bodies press together, fitting like a puzzle long waiting to be solved.

Sebastian carefully pulls my dress up and over my head, tossing it to the floor before closing the tiny distance between us.

The granite is cold against my back, a delicious contrast to the fire sparking between us.

Outside, the waves continue to crash, stars continue to twinkle, but inside, time is standing still.

I want him to take me fast and hard as he loses control; but I also want the slow and tender so we can savor every move.

As I hold my breath, I’m unsure which scenario is going to play out, until…

Ash reaches behind me and quickly shoves our dessert mess aside.

Then, strong hands grip my waist and haul me up onto the counter.

I let out a soft shriek as my ass hits the granite.

But he kisses me—swallowing all sound as he steps between my legs.

I’m on sensory overload. I don’t know where to touch him first, but ultimately it doesn’t matter.

I simply lean back and offer myself to him and then hang on for the ride.

By lunchtime the following day, we haven’t heard from anyone, and neither of us is ready to reach out and break the tenuous hold we have on our time alone together.

We’re not stupid; we know Mike and Loren could return at any minute, and I can’t speak for Ash, but I know I’d be more than happy if they stayed away another day too.

“Want to go for a walk on the beach?” he asks from his float. Well, not a float, but a huge, neon orange tube. Mine is pink. We’re in the pool, enjoying the sun. “You know, build up an appetite before we have lunch?”

“Haven’t we been building up an appetite in other ways today? I mean, I’m starving already,” I tell him, laughing, slowly spinning in my tube, and brimming with a happiness I never knew could exist for me.

“We had breakfast, Liv.” His voice is smooth as silk, and I shiver with delight thinking of the breakfast in bed he served me.

“And we worked that off almost as soon as we finished the last forkful.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re insatiable,” he teases.