Page 3 of The Cursed Sebastian Storm

“Nothing about this situation is normal, James.”

“You’re right.” He glanced down at the menu. “But I’m still so happy we’re here. And once we figure out how to tell Eli and Parker the truth about what happened, next time we come, it’ll be perfect.” His tanned cheeks turned slightly pink like he was hopeful and excited about the prospect of more nights at the diner together.

Sebastian squirmed, his stomach dropping. How was James so sure he wanted to take Sebastian out again? “I feel like the secret-binding is loosening,” he said instead of acknowledging James’s focus on dating. “That conversation was easier than any of our previous ones with Eli.”

“That’s true.” James’s eyes widened like he hadn’t noticed the difference until now. He wasn’t as used to magic dictating his words as Sebastian, who’d been painfully well-acquainted with its limits. “I wonder if getting free has anything to do with it?”

“It must,” Sebastian agreed, even though he had no idea how.

His Uncle Stephen had said his mom was bound to secrecy, even though she was never physically trapped by the curse, so he didn’t see how leaving the curse and the Storm property affected the tongue binding. Unless his mom’s tongue had never been bound that tightly, and she’d chosen not to try and warn him about the curse, regardless of how much she was prevented from revealing it.

A group of teens entered the diner, the bell above the door ringing as their laughter filled the space. Sebastian flinched reflexively, his heart fluttering rapidly at the shock of the sudden noise.

“Are you all right?” James’s brows drew together in concern, his lips turning downward.

“Fine.” Sebastian smiled and forced an exasperated laugh. “Just startled me.” He eyed the teens as they grabbed menus and went to sit at the other end of the diner. His heart continued pounding too fast. What the hell was wrong with him?

James ordered their chocolate milkshake and then dithered over what to eat. He was taking his dinner selection so seriously that you’d think it was the most importing thing he’d done that week. It was almost enough to make Sebastian smile and relax.

Sebastian ordered tater tots, jalapeño poppers, and waffles with whipped cream. He was going to make himself sick, but after years where his meal options were dictated by having no refrigeration, electricity, or ability to go to the store for perishables, he wanted to indulge in everything he’d been deprived of.

James laughed as Sebastian ordered, making Sebastian’s heart sing. This was exactly the date he’d imagined for them when he was young. One where they ate ridiculous food and made each other smile.

Eli pressed his lips together like he was struggling to hold back anger as he noted Sebastian’s selections and James’s final decision to have a burger.

As soon as he walked away, James grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “I still can’t believe we’re here or that my idea with the fuel cell actually worked.”

He sounded almost giddy. Sebastian had felt that way too when he’d first stepped beyond the Storm House boundary. Was all of James’s excitement for this date just post-escape euphoria that would die down? It would make sense.

Sebastian was less and less sure of things the longer he was free of his biggest problem. “I can’t believe it either.” Except he wasn’t brimming with excitement. Fear that this could all get taken away snuck up on Sebastian unexpectedly. What if he got trapped again? What if this was all temporary?

What if James got tired of him when the giddiness wore off?

More people entered the diner, a family of four closely followed by an older couple. There were just so many people. So much noise. Sebastian found it unsettling not knowing if anyone was going to look at him or try to talk to him. And the idea that more people might come to the diner, filling all the available seats, made his chest tighten for reasons he couldn’t explain.

He’d never been anxious like this. All he’d wanted for the past six years was to be around people, to be lost in a crowd, to go to a club and have his ears blasted with loud music as he danced with strangers. Why was he acting like this tiny group of low-key patrons at the diner scared him?

He tried to focus on the milkshake and how good the ice cream tasted. He tried not to look around and ignored everything but James’s kind brown eyes. He looked good in the hoodie Sebastian had bought him. Well, the hoodie the personal shopper his lawyer had hired bought him, but whatever.

Even after all these years, James was still Sebastian’s dream. His square jaw was more pronounced now than when they were young, his features bolder. He was hard and unrelenting and perfect. Not to mention, he wore the hell out of a leather jacket. The only downside to stealing it was that Sebastian couldn’t appreciate James in it anymore.

Eli delivered the tater tots and jalapeño poppers with a cheery, “Here we are.”

Sebastian flinched. He hadn’t seen Eli coming. He didn’t look up. Instead, he focused on the food, trying to get his twisting stomach to settle.

Eli’s cheeriness had been overdone, no doubt to remind them he was pissed, but he was at work and forced to be polite. Given that, Sebastian wasn’t expecting Eli’s next words to come out so delicately. “It’s really good to see you out, Sebastian.”

He forced himself to look up, intending to roll his eyes or say something snarky, but the kindness in Eli’s eyes did something weird to Sebastian’s insides.

“Hope we’ll be seeing you in town more.” Eli offered a small smile before turning to the next table.

Fuck. Sebastian fought back tears like sap. Everyone in town thought he was a recluse who couldn’t deal with people, but that wasn’t true. It was just the curse trapping him at Storm House and the secret-binding making him lie that had created the illusion that he couldn’t handle coming into town. So why did Eli’s words touch him like he was taking some big step coming to the diner?

The bell above the door rang and more people came inside. Damn this small town for having nowhere else to go for dinner.

Sebastian’s stomach was twisted in too many knots for him to eat. He ran a hand through his overlong hair, pushing it from his eyes. His skin itched and his pulse didn’t want to settle. He put his head in his hands, elbows braced on the table. If his chest could stop seizing, maybe he could pull it together.

He didn’t get what was happening to him. Why couldn’t he deal with being in public? He wasn’t a recluse with social anxiety. That was nothing but a lie.

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