Page 15 of Sebastian

Over the next half hour, Newt and I sat huddled around the table playing Lemur Conspiracy. We first had to double back and pick up a few clues that he had missed before we could move on to the new stuff, but I didn’t mind.

One of the reasons I never told my brother about liking video games is because I didn’t want to talk about it. Logically, I knew he wouldn’t care and would support my interest, but he would inevitably have questions. That’s how Damien showed his support for anything. By asking questions and taking an interest. It was nice, but video games were something I used to relax, and conversation took effort. So, I kept that little secret to myself.

With Newt, it was different. The other man took over the conversation, doing most of the talking. When he asked me questions, it didn’t feel like a quiz where I needed to come up with the right answer. He never asked how I felt about something, or what I preferred. He just asked me for information about the game, like where to find a clue or how to solve a puzzle. These questions were easy to answer and took no effort, which left me free to simply bask in our shared passion and excitement over the game.

I wouldn’t have even minded starting the whole game over from the beginning if it meant we could keep talking a little longer.

By the end of the first half hour, we sat so close together that we were practically fused together from shoulder to hip. At some point, I’d draped one arm over the back of his chair so that we could see both phone screens at the same time. It was a completely natural action that I hadn’t even thought about doing. We must have been sitting in that position for at least twenty minutes before I looked up to find his blue eyes only inches away, and I realized how close we’d drawn together.

He fit so perfectly under my arm, like he’d been designed to be just the right height for an armrest.

I smirked. “I was right.”

Newt’s gaze tracked the movement of my lips. “What?”

“There was a hidden room.”

“Oh.” He looked down again. “Yeah. The game.”

Our height difference put his head under my chin, giving me a close look at his crocheted hat. So much care had been put into every detail, it was only from this distance that I could see it was handmade and not a mass-produced item.

Curious, I tugged at one of the ears.

“This is a unique design.”

Newt’s hands shot up to hold the sides of the hat, as if I might yank it off his head. “My grandmother made it. When I was little, she used to call me chipmunk.”

The other man was obviously sensitive about it. He’d reacted so quickly as soon as the hat was touched, I wondered how often it had been stolen from him. I could picture the scene too easily. Schoolyard bullies would love to steal such a beloved item so they could taunt him with it. A boy treasuring something so cute and “unmasculine” would inevitably attract the wrong kind of attention.

I removed my hand from the hat and let my arm drape over the back of his chair again. “Chipmunk? Odd nickname. I’m sensing a story behind that.”

Tension drained from Newt’s shoulders when he realized I wasn’t about to steal the hat or insult it. He switched off Lemur Conspiracy to instead scroll through pictures on his phone. Once he found a specific picture way back in his photo album, he held up the screen for me to see.

It showed a picture of a much younger Newt, maybe eight or nine years old. The ginger hair and freckles were the same, but his cheeks were still round with youth and smile was slightly bucktoothed as his front teeth were visible over his bottom lip.

“It took me a while to grow into my face. Especially the teeth.”

Almost as quickly as Newt brought out the picture, he immediately took it away.

“Luckily, my adult teeth grew in better proportioned, but the other kids used to tease me about it a lot. I thought I was ugly, until my grandma pointed out that round cheeks and big front teeth are the same features that chipmunks have, and they’re considered cute. That must mean I’m cute as well. So, from that day on, I became her chipmunk.”

The game on my phone beeped again, asking if I wanted to continue playing.

I turned off the screen and set it aside.

“She was right. You are cute.”

As I’d predicted, as soon as the complement left my mouth, Newt blushed bright enough that his freckles nearly disappeared. Since he was bundled up in a rain jacket, I could only see his face. However, the small visible sliver of his neck showed that it also turned red when he blushed.

My gaze trailed downward, mapping each inch of him.

How far down did that blush go?

He was so pale, his whole body probably turned red.

My wandering eyes must have been obvious—I was really trying to hide them—because Newt suddenly started stuttering and tugging at his hat again.

“It’s my favorite hat, but I shouldn’t have worn it today. So stupid to wear this kind of thing on a...”

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