Page 11

Chapter Ten

In an attempt to chase the last remnants of light from the setting sun, I relocated to the perfect spot where the final rays were still glistening. My skin tingled from the warmth only the sun can bring and I basked in its medicinal power. It wouldn’t be long before it dipped below the buildings and we would be met with another cool evening in Sydney.

I wished I could stay here forever, tucked away in the confines of a secure apartment, but for so many reasons that wasn’t an option. One of which was not needing to know how often my bestie and her man shook the sheets. I was already feeling down on my luck, and the constant reminder of my loneliness wasn't helping. Not to mention how it only elicited images of the villainous, seductive face who had haunted my thoughts over the few past weeks.

Sebastian.

The man was either a hitman or an angel – I couldn’t decide with those defined cheekbones and befuddling demeanour. If I considered everything I knew so far he really could align with either category and I wasn’t sure which I would find more intriguing. He was a man of principle who did whatever he needed for his friends – or friends of friends apparently – and he was focused and disciplined if that body was anything to go by. But, he was also terrifyingly serious with a carefully selected mask. I assumed he chose to use it as a shield because there were times when his eyes depicted nothing but kindness.

Today however, was not a day for focusing on whatever the heck was happening there or whether he was an undercover unaliver. I wasn’t going to fixate on what I didn’t have or what I was desperate to gain, because today was an amazing day. Today was the start of what I hoped would be many more triumphs in the trajectory which would see winning at life.

I revelled in the sense of accomplishment as I reached for my notebook, ticking items off my daily To Do list. I ignored the fact that one of those tasks was something I did last night because adding it felt like I was setting myself up for victory even before the day began. The satisfaction of writing something only to immediately tick it off was a sure way to gain cheap thrills and I was here for that mentality. Success was nothing if not a healthy mindset.

Leaving the apartment everyday was already a monumental achievement – and one which felt even more meaningful after what happened at Nexus a few short weeks ago. For a couple of days it had been a slight setback, even avoiding a simple cafe lunch with Arns a few days after because the thought of seeing either Lori or Lucas continued to weigh me down. But, today when I woke up, I decided I wasn’t going to let that tether me to the confines of this place any longer – regardless of the beauty of the cityscape descending over the balcony or the security it afforded. It was a safety net I would never take for granted but I needed to embrace my independence and build back the strength which I used to admire within myself.

Leaving my past life was the hardest thing I would ever tick of my To-Do list, and it took me three days to garner the nerve to even write it down let alone mark it as completed.

The weeks prior were heavy with terror. Missed opportunities, narrow escapes, near panic-attacks and some Oscar worthy acting followed before my day of salvation came on a soggy Tuesday afternoon. The rain had pelted against the front window all day, another hurdle between the outside world and the daily grind of horrors inside – which felt ubiquitous even on the better days. No matter how many times I cleaned that darn house, it was tainted, only adding to my sickening obsession with keeping what I could manage organised.

The vicious slurs, the resulting tears and the tatters of my self-confidence all became specks of muck ingrained in the walls and floors, marking the house I thought would be my forever home with contempt and hate.

That particular day, like the twenty-six mornings prior, I traced the top line of my sticky note with my pointer finger, writing in invisible ink the one task I hoped above all else I could achieve.

LEAVE .

I would be lying to myself if I said I believed each of those days would see the fruition of the plan. But on that final dreary day, I did it. Against all odds, I left him.

Some days before I escaped, on the darkest of mornings, long before the sun had risen and my pillow was still wet from the tears of the night before, the prospect of leaving would bring thoughts of what opportunities my future could hold. Opportunities for a new life where I was once again happy. Free to make my own decisions. Free to go to work. To enjoy the small things I once took for granted like a drink at a bar or a coffee at a cafe. But, as quick as they’d come, they were gone, wiped clean like a backspace on a keyboard when the sun rose and groundhog day started yet again.

What I didn’t know then was that it was abuse.

As loud and clear as it comes.

Something I never thought I would experience.

I was a strong, confident woman who knew what she wanted and what she didn’t. I knew what abuse was. What violence looked like and most definitely would never have stood for that. I pitied those who lived those lives, pretending everything was fine with excuses and unanswered invitations. As difficult as it was to admit, I judged those women because who in their right mind would willing choose to stay in a toxic environment where they were in danger. I was never going to be a statistic and would never tolerate someone telling me what to do.

Until I was.

What naivety doesn’t tell you is how easy it is to bypass the red flags when you’re offered a convenient compliment and just enough of the good. Naivety doesn’t tell you that a tear-soaked apology should never be enough to make up for a shove to the wall, a stronger hand than yours holding you around the throat or shattered glass held to your face – the consequence of receiving a parking fine. A consequence which apparently matched the alleged crime . Naivety doesn't tell you that slowly removing every person in your life is a form of abuse – the isolation meaning you rely solely on them and their power and place in your life solidifies.

Naivety is a fickle thing though because it doesn't last long and soon enough you become astute. Rose coloured glasses fade because nothing is washing the crimson from your heart.

You become cunning and clever. A natural result of living a life where the only thing keeping you alive is the primal will to see the sunrise for one more day.

Survival instinct will do that to a person. It hardened my once naive heart until I felt nothing.

The day I finally made my escape, Lucas had gone to buy more beer. I knew I would likely only have ten minutes to grab whatever I could and leave. I didn’t have many possessions, nor did I care to take much other than a few smaller items which were already intentionally stored together. I grabbed a couple of outfits along with the pitiful amount of coins and crumpled notes I salvaged from his pockets whenever he was too drunk to notice, and I fled. Faster than I ever could have realised.

I remembered the five-minute wait for the bus felt as though it went on for days. I was convinced every oncoming car was him and he was taking a ridiculously abnormal route home. That the bus driver might have been a friend of his and would tell him where I went. Or the only other passenger on board, a woman wearing strikingly green earphones, somehow knew who I was and would call him to tell him where I hopped off the bus.

I could barely breathe when I finally arrived at my destination, my legs collapsing under me as I sank to the floor in a soaking puddle of sorrow. I didn’t argue when the doorman threatened to call the police, rightfully assuming I had no right to be there considering the luxury the building bestowed. I couldn’t plead, beg or explain myself. My tears were long ago dry, the last remnants of my energy given to the repetition of the name of the one person I knew would always be there for me. The one who brought me back to life with her familiarity and unconditional love. Offering me a place to live and a non-judgemental shoulder to cry on. The only other person who knew my parents and the way they loved each other and me. Arna had been my rock and for the first few weeks after I escaped, came to the cemetery with me for hours every single day while I cried for the months I’d missed visiting them.

“Marlssssss!” As if my thoughts seconded her presence, Arna sauntered onto the balcony standing in the direct line of the last bit of light I was desperately trying to salvage. Any sadness I was feeling lifted at her smiling face. “Your skin is already deliciously olive, leave some colour for the rest of us pale folk.”

Looking her up and down, I gestured my pointer finger from her face down to her toes. “Don’t stand too close to me looking like that. It’s not good for my ego,” I said, scrunching my face in mock disgust.

Arna twirled, her long ponytail spinning as she came full circle and curtsied, “I’m the ultimate WAG,” she said facetiously.

“You and Andy are going to have the best looking children, it is sickening how hot you both are,” I joked, admiring the way she could wear tight black leather pants and heels like no one else. The black and red of her Hearts’ scarf was complemented by a full red lip and popped against the white of her blouse. She was a sight and I whistled appreciatively.

“No denial from me, our children will be adorable. But not for a long time. We are both far too selfish to add a dependant into the mix,” I nodded sympathetically. “Why are you still laying there, we're leaving soon?”

“I was hoping if I stayed out here long enough you would forget you asked me to come with you,” I answered sheepishly.

“Not a chance, love. Get up and go shower. The game starts in just over an hour and Andy has stocked the box with wine and popcorn.”

I rolled my head to the side until I was looking right at her and sighed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, I just didn’t want to bump into him again – accidentally on my part, intentional on his. He knew The Hearts' games would be the best place to find me and even more now Arns was engaged to the captain. But I knew she wouldn’t let it go and so I reached for my belongings.

“Fine,” I agreed, throwing my legs over the lounge to stand. “But you better make me a drink while I quickly shower. I'll need some liquid courage.” Arna was already retreating inside as her agreement met my ears, eager to have one herself.

My smile came easily when I finally found the jersey stuffed inside my suitcase. Despite my earlier grumblings, I was actually excited to head into a game tonight. Having spent the morning visiting my parent’s graves, ending the night doing something I knew Dad would have loved, was comforting. The wallpaper on my phone was a reminder of our shared passion, me in a nappy and Hearts’ singlet, snuggled into Dad’s lap in my childhood living room.

Some of my favourite memories centred around Dad and I watching the Hearts play especially when we headed into matches. Mum would pack us a lunch bag and without fail, Dad would sneak us a packet of lollies when she wasn’t looking. She always preferred to stay home stating Dad and I screaming for three straight hours was enough to drive any woman to drink and as an adult, I couldn’t say I blamed her.

We were loud and proud.

Rain, hail or shine we were there and it didn’t matter if we won or lost, our voices were always hoarse from the incessant cheering. On the drive home we would usually disagree on who played well, who needed more time on the training paddock and who our top three players of the match were. One thing we always agreed on though, was we were not fair-weather supporters and that meant showing up for your team no matter what, which added to why I now stood in my jersey and jeans ready to go.

After my parents passed I stopped attending games. It was easier to watch from home rather than risk a lecture about only watching “for the men in their shorts” and it didn’t matter what I said he always had a counter-argument. It was exhausting and the gaslighting was never-ending so tonight would be the first live game I’d attended in longer than I cared to admit. Dad would be so happy to know I was getting amongst it and that meant I was going to need to cheer extra loud in his absence.

“You ready?” Arna called, breaking me from the reverie. “Our ride is two minutes away.”

“Let’s do this!” I answered.

We exited the car at the entry reserved for family and friends. A small blessing because with the sheer number of people entering the gates, the need to scan every face for someone I didn’t want to see would have been overwhelming. I was less than a step behind Arna, both apprehensive and excited as we took the lifts up to Level three and into the private box Andy had reserved for the match. I immediately headed for the glass window, my cheeks stretching with a grin. My heart felt full at the glowing green grass, perfectly cut to house the two teams fighting for victory. The crowd was almost at capacity and the pre-game music filled the space blasting, Hunters and Collectors, Holy Grail, as the Hearts ran onto the field.

A sense of home washed over me and I closed my eyes for the briefest of moments sending an unspoken message of love up to my folks.

Arna clapping and cheering startled me from my reverie and I turned, pulling her down the step to stand with me. She gave me a quick side-squeeze and we grinned in unison.

“I get so nervous watching him play and I still barely understand the game,” she said, her voice slightly shaky. Perhaps it was a case of sadism, but I liked seeing her like this.

She was always carefree, but watching her man take the field brought out a different, more vulnerable side and I enjoyed witnessing it first hand. Only a couple of months ago, when Andy was stretchered from the field in what we later discovered was an extreme overreaction from the medical team, she’d been near catatonic. Even after discovering he was entirely fine, she’d dramatically demanded he retire, the fear of an injury too much.

“I can tell,” I said, laughing. “I’m nervous too but also excited. I feel like I could throw up from the mixed emotions but at least no one has to witness me losing my lunch.” I looked around the room and noted the snacks that were placed on the high bench behind where we stood. Bottles of water, both still and sparkling, soft drink and wine, and a large bowl of red liquorice like Arna had said. Andy definitely did look after his woman.

There were four seats in front of the bench and I chose the one with the best view ready to watch the game. Arna took the bowl and came to sit next to me, her leg shaking and mouth already full.

“Why would anyone want to run, for three straight hours – might I add – and have people literally throw you to the ground? It’s ridiculous. And all these savages ,” she enunciated the adjective to highlight her horror, “pay to watch my fiancé be brutalised.”

“First of all – how dare you? This game is a national icon. You're practically committing treason with comments like that. Second of all, can you relax? Your statements have mountain out of a molehill written all over them.”

“It’s barbaric. I should write an article about the brutality alone.”

“You are ridiculous. Leave my Hearts alone,” I teased, reaching around her and stealing the bowl.

When the siren sounded and the game began I couldn’t sit any longer, standing so close to the glass I could practically smell the people sitting on the other side. The ball moved among the teams and I quickly became lost in the kicks, tackles and cheering from the stands.

I hollered when Jack kicked the opening goal of the game and screamed when the umpire stripped the ball from Andy in what was an absolute bullshit decision. For the first time in forever, my mind was free of anything other than the team I loved battling for supremacy and it must have been a good half an hour before I glanced over to Arna who was still nervously eating liquorice.

“You’re going to shit yourself if you don’t stop shovelling those down your throat,” I said in her direction, my eyes firmly ahead. The game had amped up as the opposition took a shot on goal, their first for the match. “And if Andy, Jack and the boys don’t start kicking a few more goals, I might strangle those meatheads in the change room later. Starting with your fiancé.”

Deep laughter from the back of the room was the only reply I received and I knew for a fact that it wasn’t coming from Arns. Ungracefully swinging around to see who caught the end of my threats, I felt my eyes widen.

The God of Thunder and Lightning – Sebastian.

Well that answers any uncertainty I had – he was sexier than I recalled and my endeavour to create pseudo blemishes in an attempt to downplay the attraction I remembered – futile.

Wearing a pair of jeans, crisp white shoes and a strikingly similar light grey t-shirt to the one he gave me to sleep in when I was at his house, he was scrumptious. Remnants of fresh washing powder and the feel of his sheets when I stayed in his bed filtered through me. I could have slept forever on that pillow with the level of intoxication I discovered in his scent. He was wearing a Hearts’ cap and for some reason this was the sexiest part of his outfit. Who would have thought a hat could look so damn attractive? Maybe if I turned it around and then removed his shirt we would be onto a true winner.

Arna stood, placing the nearly empty bowl to the side bringing me out of my lust fuelled daydreaming.

“Seb, hey!” Her surprise was clear as she moved towards him and having been too caught up in my ogling to see anything else, I finally noticed the woman who stood just behind him.

Stunning was the first word that came to mind. The second I wouldn't dare to say because it was determined purely on a jealousy I had no right to feel.

Much shorter than Sebastian and petite in ways I would never be, she was oddly familiar, yet I didn’t think we’d met. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and the square framed black glasses she wore highlighted the deep chocolate brown of her eyes. When she smiled I knew there would be toothpaste companies who would happily pay big money for a face like that promoting their product. She had a sexy librarian vibe and I could see why he would have chosen her as his date. An unexpected stab of emotion hit my stomach and I ignored it, not wanting to delve into what it meant.

I watched Arna greet them both as if I were a spectator of not only the football but the scene before me. His companion was quiet but her smile was genuine and the closer I got the more beautiful I saw she was. I wondered if she knew I had stayed at his house only a couple of weeks ago or whether she would even care. She didn’t look like someone who would be threatened by a hot mess like me.

The memory of wanting to kiss him threatened to strangle me and while the rejection I'd felt in the moment now made sense, the renewed shame set my cheeks aflame.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked awkwardly and knew I appeared even more so when I thrust my hand out in greeting.

What was with me and ridiculously stilted greetings. Was this even acceptable after having been in his bed so recently? He glared at my outstretched hand, as usual, his default mask of intensity firmly in place. His mouth set into a firm line begging me to stare at those lips. The paradox of standing this close to someone who looked like they could either kiss you with passion or rip your throat out for being too close, entirely perplexing.

I faltered, clumsily moving my hand back and forth, my eyes wide with horror as he slowly covered my grasp with his own before pulling me into him. Those illustrious lips met my cheek, the soft stubble grazing my skin and sending a shiver down my spine.

The crowd outside the glass erupted and after the briefest moment Arna began clapping beside me, signalling that Andy must have done something right.

“You look beautiful,” his whispered words were sinfully gravelly and my nipples hardened in response. I looked up to meet his gaze and smiled, attempting to mask my stupefaction. I should not be having such a reaction when his girlfriend was standing less than a metre from us. I was a lot of things but an adulterer was not one of them.

“Are you here to watch the game? I mean, obviously you are or you wouldn’t be here,” I looked towards the empty seats next to where Arna had been sitting. “Do you have seats elsewhere or are you, um – staying here?” I was rambling, the nerves swarming in my stomach and I could feel the heat of embarrassment moving up my chest. I pointed towards the seats again uncertain of what else to do.

His naturally stern face softened a touch as he studied me quietly.

Jeez. He definitely wasn’t winning any public speaking competitions. I wished I was one of those people who could find comfort in silences, but I was the opposite. The need to regurgitate any thought I’d ever had hanging from the end of my tongue.

Turning to his companion, I held out my hand in the same uncomfortable salutation, “Hi, I’m , it’s lovely to meet you.” There was an underlying bitterness in my tone and I was ashamed to acknowledge I was jealous. She smiled and her self-confidence and warmth caused me to unwillingly return the gesture despite the way I tried to search for flaws.

“Ohh, you’re ,” she pointed towards Sebastian before continuing. “He was hoping you would be here. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Evangeline, Seb’s sister.” She reached forward and shook my hand softly.

Sister. She was his sister.

I watched as she shot a cheeky grin his way, unspoken words passing between them. Subtle similarities that I hadn’t seen before were now suddenly obvious and I wondered if that was why she’d seemed so familiar. Despite the darker colour of her eyes, they were the same round shape, her smile held a slight lilt mirroring his and they shared a similar deep brown to their hair although hers was curly.

Recovering and ignoring the spark of happiness at hearing she was his sibling, I responded. “The pleasure is mine. Did you see the start of the–”

The crowd cheering again snatched my attention and I turned towards the ground to see the Hearts hugging in celebration. Another goal.

“I’m sorry. I’m probably going to be terrible company because I’m tragically in love with this team.” Pointing to the jersey I wore, I turned back to the glass to watch the teams reset and recommence their plays in an attempt to score again.

Graciously, Evangeline laughed, “This is my first match actually. I’m not sure what is happening other than we want the Hearts to win. Right, Seb?” She looked towards her brother and I noticed his face soften. Apparently the villain had a softer side.

“Yes, Eva, we want the Hearts to win,” he patted her on the top of her head mockingly which only made her laugh more.

“Hell yes we want the Hearts to win or my man is going to be grumpy. Eva, come sit with me and I will tell you the three things I actually understand about this sport and then all the gossip about the team – which is far more exciting.” Arna patted the seat next to her and I glared at her knowing her intentions in engrossing Evangeline in conversation. Sebastian stepped aside, allowing his sister to pass and suddenly it was just him and I. His frame much larger than my own, blocking Arna and Evangeline from my vision entirely.

“It’s lucky they scored a few more goals, hey? Unless choking is something you are into?” He teased softly, punctuating his statement with a wink.

“Wai–” I paused, my mouth hung open in utter dismay and his lips twitched. Was he making a sexual joke? “I’m not sure I follow, TBH,” I lied. I was well aware of the double entendre in his words but not even close to knowing how to match his banter when the part of my brain responsible for conversing had suddenly shattered.

“Did you just say TBH?” He asked, openly grinning now and the change in his usual steel-like features, obliterated any small fragment of command I had over my words.

Shit. Go back to scowling. Because the only thing I found more attractive than Scowly McScowlerson was when he smiled. The sparkling teeth ran in the family. I need the name and number of their dentist – stat.

“I did. It’s a terrible habit really. I blame the nerves when watching them play. Are you a fan or just here for Andy?” I laughed but kept my eyes on the field, not risking the befuddlement that looking at him would bring.

“I definitely don’t enjoy it as much as you appear to, but a few of the boys on the team are my mates. Obligatory supporter. I actually followed The Magpies as a kid but Andy threatened me when he was drafted,” he took a sip of his water and I snuck a glance at the way his throat moved as he swallowed.

“That’s a tragedy.”

“Which part?” He asked and even without looking at him I could hear the grin in his voice.

“Both that Andy threatened you and that you followed The Magpies to begin with.” He laughed and the deep chuckle reverberated in my chest.

I wanted to concentrate on the match in front, yet I struggled to even locate the ball now I’d heard the magic which was his happiness. Evangeline and Arna chuckling at something interrupted our conversation and I looked around Seb to see them both happily chatting, the game long forgotten amongst chatter about Jack and someone Arna suspected he was in love with. Although whether she was in fact a real person was still a topic for debate.

“Your sister is beautiful,” my eyes were firmly planted ahead but I didn’t want the conversation to stop. This was different to when we were at his place. Being in neutral territory offered comfortability plus I was wearing fresh clothing. Always a win. “Is she younger than you?”

“Eva is trouble,” he answered wryly. I briefly smiled at him, before following his gaze back to the field.

“She is two years younger than me. She lives just outside of Sydney actually and we don’t get to see each other too much but she's hoping to move to the city next year so she came up to look around during her break.”

“You want her to move here?”

“I do,” he answered matter of factly.

“If you haven’t told her, you should. It’s nice to be wanted,” I shrugged, “But I’m an only child so I can’t say I’m too credible when it comes to sibling relationships.”

When he didn’t reply I turned to him and found he was staring right at me. Urgh, did I say something wrong? The confidence I felt evaporated as I mistakenly glanced down towards his lips again, feeling exposed under his gaze. I wondered where I overstepped and my instinctual need to apologise and fix the situation before it erupted was quick to take effect.

“Sorry. Ignore me. Sometimes I speak before thinking. I shouldn’t have told you what to do. What would I know anyway?”

He leaned closer and all of the air left my lungs. “You don’t need to apologise for speaking honestly. You’re right. I do want her to move here. I just never thought of it like that, I assumed she knew.”

I let his words sink over me before he spoke again.

“People don’t often take me by surprise, but I’m finding you are an anomaly.” His voice held a hint of surprise as if he couldn’t quite put his finger on whatever it was drawing us together like magnets.

You and me both, Thunderman.

I turned back to the game, the full crowd on the edge of their seats as the teams battled in the last few minutes of the half and I’d never been so grateful for something to watch. Although, the need to lighten the mood was strong and I nudged his shoulder with my own.

“So you hoped you’d see me here, huh?” The siren sounded indicating the break and Arna spoke before he could reply.

“I need to use the bathroom, anyone else?”

“I do too, actually,” Evangeline stood as I shook my head indicating I would remain.

“I’m good,” he answered and I realised we were about to be alone with no game to pretend to watch.

Shit.

We moved to the snack bench and I slowly appraised the offers as if I didn’t already know I was going to take the crisps.

Disappointingly, he never responded to my sarcastic comment and I was desperately searching for what I could say to fill the silence. My thoughts seemed to enter a different frequency when he was close as if my uncalled-for desire wiped any sense of clarity from my mind.

“How have you been?” I was hoping for light and self-assuredness but the question came across as forced. My words strained and gauche.

Why did I become so tongue tied around him?

Contrastingly, he looked completely unaffected as though he could command the entire crowd with a flick of his wrist. Suave bastard.

I blamed the cap and the grey shirt. No one should look that good in something so simple and I was just a little happy that I had met him now and not when I'd been with Lucas. Ogling without fear or guilt was a nice feeling. A new feeling.

“Same old. Busy with work. I don’t usually get to the games because they often play on nights when I can’t get away from the club, but tonight with Eva here I was able to manage it. And yes, I did hope to see you.” I noticed the way his tongue darted out to quickly lick his lower lip. The statement seamlessly slipped through as if it didn’t take an entire hour of mindfulness to admit something like that.

Damn. He really was something else.

I sucked in a quick breath, frantically trying to form the perfect response.

“Most people do, honestly,” my lips thinned. If this was an episode of Blind Date , the camera was zooming in and the voice over was scathing.

Most people do .

Christ on a cracker, someone save me from myself.

But surprisingly before I could overthink everything, he threw his head back and his husky mirth bounced around the empty space as I took a step back to steady myself against the wall. When he brought his gaze back to meet my own, the creases around his eyes made me feel warm.

I was an absolute mess and I was going to give myself a concussion if I kept vacillating between pride and mortification.

An easy diagnosis for any medical practitioner - Stream of Consciousness Rambling – an immediate prescription of Verbal Flow Blockers required.

Hoping to gain a breath that didn’t contain his fresh, clean scent, I turned my face back to the empty field, the crowd still standing engrossed in conversations of their own which did not appear anywhere near as clumsy as the one in here.

“What's your story?” He asked, the mirth still evident in his eyes. His fingers grazed my chin and turned my face gently until I looked back at him. His pupils were dilated and he was breathing heavier than he had been before.

I didn’t understand this guy. One second he was rejecting my very obvious attempt at a kiss and the next he was randomly here, which if his sister was to be believed, wasn’t actually random at all, and openly flirting with me. It was enough to give me a headache.

“I don't really know how to answer that,” I admitted, wanting desperately to tell him that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him either. That his presence did things to me that felt illegal. That I dreamt of kissing him and running my hands down his bare back after I saw him doing pull ups. I wanted him to kiss me and show me that there was a different kind of love to what I knew. But after the humiliation of before, I was going to need a fluorescent sign marking his interest before I confessed to that. His smell had become something I unknowingly craved though and I was torn between needing space to think and needing more.

“Have dinner with me?” His request shocked me enough that I just stared – like a mouth-breather who needs reminding to close the hatch – stared.

He wanted to have dinner with me? Dinner was the very last thing I wanted to do with him although it could come after we got through the lengthy list. Another thought I was going to keep locked in the cage of my mind.

I wanted so desperately to say yes. I wanted to have dinner with him, spend more time with him alone and explore what it would be like to be with another man, but I wasn’t sure I could.

These feelings were so new for me.

Was I ready?

I hadn’t even been looking but I didn’t want to turn down what could potentially be something amazing, or at the very least, a way to get back on the horse.

What if I ordered the wrong thing or couldn’t finish my meal though? What if he didn’t like my outfit or the waiter looked at me for too long and he thought I was trying to gain his attention? What if he didn’t like his dish and it was my fault somehow? What if there was no parking and we couldn’t go to the restaurant he chose? Or if I didn’t agree with him. Or if I agreed too much? Shit, I was still open mouth staring and it had been long enough that answering now, even if I agreed, would feel awkward

Biting my lip almost aggressively, I was saved from having to dig myself out of this hole when the door swung open and Arna and Eva waltzed in, pausing when they saw how close we were.

“Urgh – do you guys want us to leave?” Arna asked, a sparkle in her eye.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I laughed, shooting her an I Hate You expression but also feeling relief that I was saved from death by embarrassment.

“I bought a scarf,” Eva grinned, pointing to the new red and black memorabilia draped around her neck.

“Of course you did,” Seb responded, swatting her away as she flicked the tassels towards his face.

“Come on, the game is about to start,” Arna said at the same time as the siren sounded.

Sebastian held his hand out, gesturing for me to go first and I did, pausing briefly when his fingers traced my waist and he quietly whispered, “You can tell me your answer later,” sending goosebumps scattering across my skin.