Page 88 of The Moon & His Tides

But only Sebastian had ever stirred this insatiable need that went beyond lust.

I found myself just wanting to… be with him.

Breathe the same air.

Watch the same film with our bodies pressed in one long line, shoulders to knees.

Witness the way he’d conquer the industry with his wit and beauty and warmth.

I wanted the privilege of living beside him, and I didn’t want it to end.

Ever.

The thought knocked me upside the head with a resounding crash and stole the breath from me.

I didn’t want Sebastian to move out and move along in a few weeks or months or years.

I wanted selfishly and earnestly for him to be ours––no, honestly,mine––forever.

“Adam?” His voice was distant like the crashing waves through my cracked open window. “Adam!”

I jerked out of my horrifying revelation and blinked at him blankly. “There’s no need to yell at me. I’m sitting right here.”

“Your mind was gone,” he argued, but he wasn’t irritated. Only concern marred his brow. “Maybe up in Yorkshire with your wife?”

My heart gave a hollow pang at the thought of Savannah up north. I was angry about her histrionics, but mostly, I was fatigued by them. As soon as a problem erupted between us, she fled in a flurry of drama so we never had time to actually talk through our issues.

I knew she’d come back when she was ready, pull me into bed with sweet words and kisses that were her versions of an apology she’d never verbalize properly, and then we’d just keep on living as we’d done before.

For an American, Savannah had always been startlingly good at being British.

“Maybe,” I admitted because it was easier to admit to that than the truth of my pining for him. “I promise, though, I’ve done enough brooding today. I am at your mercy.”

“Oh?” Sebastian practically purred, eyebrow raised. “I think I’d like that.”

I was a grown man, and I didn’t think I’d blushed in ages, but I came close there, imagining what he might do to me if given full access and control.

A shiver curled like smoke up my back.

He laughed, catching the telltale movement. “C’mon,vecchio, it’s time to have some fun.”

Of course, a plum spot in the car park was available, and he pulled in smoothly, jumping out of the car almost before he’d even put it in park. I followed more leisurely, pretending I wasn’t uncharacteristically giddy at the chance of spending the day at the beach with him.

I leaned against the side of the car as he rummaged in the boot, reappearing with two plush beach towels, an unfamiliar cooler, and a book he held between his teeth because he was out of hands. I reached over to pluck it from his mouth.

“Grazie.” He beamed at me, knocking the cooler against my thigh to push me along. “Let’s go, or we’ll be late. The surf peters off late in the afternoon.”

“You do know I haven’t a clue how to surf, right? I waseleventhe last time I stood on a board.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he teased, eyes flashing bright in the late spring sunshine. “If I’m going to look like a fool, I’d rather be in good company.”

I laughed. “You arsehole. You think my idea of fun on my birthday is to look like a bloody idiot?”

“Yes,” he said firmly as we walked down the path to the beach, and he toed off his trainers, waiting for me to do the same. “I think spending the day doing something new, where you aren’t expected to look your best or be the best will be refreshing. You aren’t Oscar award-winning actor Adam Meyerstoday. You’re just a bloke having a good time with a friend at the beach.”

Why did that sound so fucking dreamy?

Just a bloke at the beach.