“Sure.”
“Where are you at with the other guy? Mr. Complicated.”
It’s the one thing I wish he wouldn’t have asked, and I feel a little of my lightness dim, some of my buzzy happiness fade away as I think of Sir. Of the way he still makes me feel.
“Actually, let me ask it another way,” Sebastian says, his gaze intent. “What makes it complicated? Is he married? Is it a long-distance thing?”
I scrunch up my face and peer at him out of one squinted eye. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
He nods.
“I haven’t met him.”
I hold my breath, waiting for the laugh, but true to his word, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even crack a smile.
“How’d that come about?” His voice seems different. Cautious.
Probably because he realizes he’s having dinner with a lunatic.
“Oh, you know,” I say, waving my hand. “The usual way. I posted naked pictures of myself online then asked if any men wanted to chat.”
He rewards me with a smile, some of his tension easing. “Damn. I’m visiting the wrong websites, apparently.”
I smile back, because flirtatious Sebastian is extremely likable. No. All parts of Sebastian are likable.
The server brings us dessert menus, and we both set the menus to the side and order coffee.
“Through a dating app,” I say. “One where you get to know each other based on conversation, not appearances. The complicated bit is that I was on there for real—to meet someone. He was there quite by accident and wasn’t romantically available.”
The server brings over two cups and fills them with coffee, then sets sugar and cream on the table. Sebastian pushes them both toward me as though knowing exactly how I like my coffee.
“So what happened?” Sebastian asks.
I shrug. “I don’t really know. He replied to my initial message, explaining his situation. I replied to that. He replied to that. Neither of us ever quit replying.”
I’m braced to see amusement or judgment on his face, but instead he looks intent. “And you developed feelings for him.”
I hesitate, then nod. “I know it sounds crazy. And wrong. He was with someone. But somehow, those messages started becoming the highlight of my day. And the way I felt when I saw his name… I never had those feelings in any previous relationships.”
He gazes at me steadily. “You said was in a relationship. He’s not anymore?”
I shake my head.
“Then why not meet him?”
“I tried,” I say, embarrassed that my voice comes out a little cracked. “He wasn’t interested. We’re still friends, we still talk, but in terms of it becoming more than that…” I shake my head. “It’s just as well. I think it’s probably time to let him go. Start dating for real.”
Feeling vulnerable and wanting to hide, I pick up the dessert menu and feign fascination, though the words are a little blurry and even my highly trained sweet tooth can’t seem to focus or commit to anything.
I risk a look at Sebastian, and he’s watching me, his knuckles drifting idly over the sharp line of his jaw as though he’s lost in thought.
“What are you having?” I ask brightly. “Anything?”
He looks at me a moment longer, then slowly reaches for his menu, perusing the options as he sips his coffee. Just a splash of cream, no sugar for him.
“Want to split an ice-cream sundae?” he asks.
Grateful for the offer of normalcy after my humiliating confession, I grin. “I normally have a firm policy against splitting desserts, but based on the fact that those potatoes were more butter than vegetable, I’ll make an exception.”
The sundae is delicious. The conversation easy and free flowing.
Sebastian insists on paying, furthering my confusion on what this is. Does he consider me a professional associate, based on our past business? A friend?
A date?
I’ve got a sip of coffee left and use it as an excuse to ask one more question as he reviews the bill.
“Okay, I spilled my guts on my complicated romantic situation,” I say, smiling so he won’t know how much his answer matters. “What about you? How are things with Ms. Complicated? Still not the right time?”
Sebastian continues to silently study the bill for so long that I assume he’s not going to answer. Finally, he scrawls his signature, closes the billfold, and looks up.
Then he surprises me by answering my question after all. “I care about her. I care about her more than she knows. I’ve been afraid if I tell her that, I’ll lose her.”
There’s a fierceness in his eyes when he talks about this woman, and I look away. Jealousy.
Then I hear his words more clearly, and because strangely, I want to be his confidant the way he’s been mine… “Been afraid,” I repeat. “Past tense?”
He taps his fingers on the billfold. “I’m also not entirely sure she knows what she wants. And I want to be the only thing she wants.”
My stomach flips at the possessive note in his tone, and jealousy strikes again. I wait for more, but he doesn’t say anything.
I sigh. “That’s all I’m going to get, huh? You’re going to play the man-of-few-words card on this?”
“For now,” he says with a smile as he stands and pulls out my chair.
The restaurant’s only a fifteen-minute walk from my apartment, but Sebastian refuses to let me walk alone. And to my disappointment, he also doesn’t offer to walk me. Instead he hails a cab and opens the door for me. I thank him and start to climb in, when he touches my elbow.
I freeze and look up, suddenly sandwiched between the frame of the taxi and Sebastian Andrews. Other than his fingers on my elbow he’s not touching me, but he’s close enough that I can feel his heat, smell his scent, see that those aqua eyes actually have a thin border of navy.
His gaze drops to my mouth for a fraction of a second, and for a heart-stopping moment, I think he might kiss me. And I know—somehow, I know—that it would be the kiss to ruin all other kisses.
“Your guy,” he says roughly. “Do you love him?”
Considering I was just thinking about Sebastian’s lips on mine, it’s a jarring question.
“Everyone thinks I’m crazy to love someone I haven’t met.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I take a deep breath, wishing I could evade the question I’ve been too terrified to even ask myself. But I care about him and Sir too much not to answer honestly.
“Yes,” I whisper. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not mutual. He won’t even meet me.”
Sebastian says nothing for several moments, then nods. “I think you should try again.”
He pulls away and holds my gaze for a long moment before stepping back. Shaken, and confused, I climb into the cab. Sebastian waits until I pull my legs and the tail of my coat inside, then closes the door, all gentlemanly politeness.
I lean back against the cushion, barely registering that the cab smells like garlic, or that traffic is surprisingly heavy for this late in the evening. I notice only that Sebastian Andrews doesn’t bother to glance at the cab as he walks away. That he’s just nudged me toward another man.