“Hey.” He stops when our toes are touching, lifting a hand and brushing his fingers along my cheekbone.
“Hi.”
He grins at my breathlessness, and my insides do a little flip. “Do you want to talk out here or inside?”
“We’d better go in. It’s cold, and we don’t want to wake the neighbors.”
“Right.” He brushes his thumb along my jaw. “Don’t want to do that.”
“Come on, then. Let’s get you some coffee, then we can talk.”
Sebastian follows me in, closing and locking the door behind him. It may as well be as loud as a gunshot; it’s so silent in the house and my nerves are firing so intensely. I get us both a mug, mostly because I wouldn’t mind having something to hold on to while we have this conversation. “How do you take it?”
“Just a splash of cream,” he says. He’s so close, I can feel his heat at my back, and the puff of his breath rustles my hair.
I fix us both a mug before turning and handing it to him silently. We stand there for a minute, cradling the warm cups against our chests, watching each other.
God, he’s handsome. The photos plastered all over the internet don’t do him justice. They never quite catch the luminosity of his dark golden skin, the little amber flecks that form a ring around his irises, or the way his left cheek has a dimple if he smiles big enough.
I thought I’d come to terms with never seeing his face in person again. Now, I can’t imagine going another ten years without being able to watch the crinkles form at the corners of his eyes in real time, rather than simply seeing the result in a static photograph. Depending on the outcome of this conversation, maybe I won’t have to.
“We can talk in my room,” I whisper.
“Lead the way, Rosebud.”
With every step toward my bedroom, I’m hyperaware of Sebastian. His heat, his height, the controlled power that emanates from him with every footfall. I’m nearly hyperventilating by the time we walk into my space and he shuts the door behind him.
The rooms in this little house aren’t overly large. It’s an older home, so there’s room for the queen-sized bed, a little vanity, and two bedside tables. With Sebastian in here with me, it feels downright claustrophobic. He sucks up all the oxygen in the room.
“You can sit on the bed,” I choke out, forcing myself to climb calmly onto the mattress and settle in, sitting cross-legged with the coffee mug in my hands. Sebastian does the same, but his long legs take up much more space than my shorter ones. Somehow, I keep my face neutral when his knees press against mine.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
I shake my head. “No, I was still up. Doing some writing.”
“Sorry.” He winces. “We’d all had a few beers, and showing up unannounced at midnight sounded like a great idea in the moment.”
That makes me chuckle, because I can imagine. I haven’t spent much time around Sebastian’s teammates, but it doesn’t surprise me that they’re all up in each other’s business. I get the impression they don’t have many boundaries.
I’m glad he has that.
“It’s okay. Lola had just gone to bed, but I don’t think she was asleep yet.”
We stare at each other, taking sips of coffee to fill the silence.
“You didn’t answer any of my texts or calls.” The vulnerability in his tone is a kick to the chest. The idea that I’m not the only one who’s spent the past ten years hurting is going to take some getting used to.
Clearing my throat, I aim an apologetic wince in his direction. “I’m sorry. I… I guess I kind of freaked out. That kiss was… Well, when you said you hadn’t meant to do that after you kissed me, I guess I thought you regretted it, and I didn’t want to have one of those brutal conversations where you try to let me down easy, you know?”
I’ve had more than one of those conversations, and my heart simply wouldn’t be able to handle hearing those words from Sebastian Navarro.
He grimaces. “Sorry. I could see how you’d think that’s what was coming. Especially since you saw that girl kissing me all those years ago.”
“What was her name?”
“Huh?” His brow wrinkles.
“The girl who kissed you. What was her name?” I have no idea why I’m asking. I’m not sure I want to know, but the words shot out of my mouth without permission, and now I’m committed.