Page 13 of Reckless Hearts

Seb comes willingly, tucking his head under my chin, his curls tickling my skin.

I hold him against me, feeling his breathing even out. His body grows heavier against mine, his usual awkward energy melting away until he’s nothing but soft breaths and warm skin.

Sleep and I are not always friends, but after such an intense orgasm, I feel it reaching up to claim me. It pulls me into its clutches, and I fall asleep holding my best friend’s little brother.

There’s a tickingsound in my head when I wake the next morning. My mouth is like sandpaper. My stomach churns.

Fuck. There’s nothing worse than a hangover.

Although, apparently, there is something worse.

Because when I turn my head and see Seb lying next to me, it’s immediately apparent how badly I’ve fucked up.

His dark curls spill over his Yoda pillowcase. He looks young. Innocent.

Pure.

Suddenly, the ticking turns a whole lot more ominous. Like it’s counting down the seconds I have left to live.

Although Saskia is often irritated by Seb, she’s also fiercely protective of her younger brother. When she finds out I fooled around with him, she’ll turn my balls into decorative earrings. Or my scrotum into some kind of pouch like they do with kangaroos in Australia. Either way, I’m fairly sure my genitalia won’t be left intact.

Which I probably deserve.

It’s not even just the fact he’s her little brother.

I never hook up with innocent guys like him. I hook up with guys like me, guys who know the score.

And Little Kleggs is the worst kind of innocent.

He stirs while I continue to watch him like he’s the developing plot in a horror movie.

He opens his eyes. How have I never clocked how beautiful his eyes actually are? They’re not the same pure blue as Saskia’s. Instead, Seb’s have a hint of green, making them more distinct.

He blinks sleepily at me. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry.” The words slip out of me unprompted, uncensored.

Seb props himself up on an elbow, considering me momentarily before he clears his throat. “I’m not sure if an apology is what a guy wants to hear the morning after sex.”

It’s my turn to blink. It’s probably the most coherent sentence Seb has ever said to me.

Has having my tongue in his mouth cured him of his inability to speak properly around me?

“Sorry,” I say again.

A grin lights up his face. “Is that an apology for an apology?”

“Maybe.”

Seb shifts slightly, the sheet sliding down to reveal more of his chest.

His posture is relaxed, but his eyes are watchful. “Look, Marcus, I’m not an idiot. I get what this was. It was a one-night thing, yes? It doesn’t have to be weird.”

Somehow, he’s stolen the words I usually say and turned them around.

“Okay, I’ve never had a not-weird ending to a one-night stand, but let’s aim for that,” I say. “This is me not at all weirdly climbing naked out of my best friend’s brother’s bed. And this is me not at all weirdly trying to locate my underwear on the floor…”

Seb laughs, and I feel a weird twinge of pride. I’ve flirted and teased him for so many years, but I don’t think I’ve ever made him genuinely laugh.