Page 52 of Closer

I focus on breathing, trying not to imagine what that would be like. His warm body pressed against mine, his breath tickling my neck…

“And then what?” My voice comes out a little breathless, a little too eager.

“Then we’d have breakfast, of course. I’d make you my famous pancakes.”

“You? Cook?” I can’t help but laugh at the thought. “I didn’t know you knew your way around a kitchen.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, princess.” He winks, and my stomach does a little flip. “But yes, I can cook. Quite well, actually.”

“Hmm.” I take a sip of my wine, studying him over the rim of my glass. “And after breakfast?”

“After breakfast, we’d go about our day. Work, errands, the usual. But we’d always make time for each other.”

“How so?”

“Little things. A quick lunch date, a surprise bouquet of flowers, a note tucked into your purse.” He shrugs, his expression softening. “Reminders that I’m thinking about you, even when we’re apart.”

My heart clenches, a wave of longing washing over me. It sounds nice. Really nice. But…

“And at night?” I’m not sure this topic was the right choice.

His gaze flits to my mouth for a second. “At night, princess, we’d barely make it through the door before I’d have you pressed against the wall, my hands and mouth everywhere.”

“Sebastian.”

“I’d worship every inch of you until you’re trembling and begging for more.” His voice drops to a husky murmur. “And then I’d take you to bed and fuck you until the sun comes up.”

Holy shit. I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the ache building between them. “That’s…” I give a soft, nervous cough. “We would be sleep-deprived.”

“Okay, not every night. But we could bake your famous cupcakes or curl up on the couch, you reading and me watching a game. Just being together.”

Just being together. It sounds… perfect. Too perfect. Like a dream I can’t quite let myself believe in.

“It could be real,” he says. “If you wanted it to be.”

“Why?”

He braces his elbows on his knees. “Because I miss you, Lil. I fucking miss you. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

I hold up a hand, shaking my head. “No. We agreed, remember? No fighting, no rehashing the past.”

“Lil—”

“I mean it.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” My voice wavers, betraying the emotions I’m trying so hard to keep in check. “Let’s… enjoy the rest of our dinner, yeah?”

Sebastian’s gaze lingers on me, searching. But then he sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. Okay.”

We lapse into silence, the only sound the clink of our silverware against the plates. I try to focus on the food, but my mind is miles away.

This is pretending. And still, something is missing. Like there’s a Sebastian-shaped hole in my heart that no amount of pretending can fill.

It’s not perfect, but it’s something. And right now, something is better than nothing.

Even if my heart aches for more.

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