Page 23 of We Can Stay
But now there’s Flick, there’s something else I want to do, and I can’t help but feel like a failure of a person for leaving her hanging.
“Yes?” I ask, opening the door.
Rach stands there, hand on her hip and my windbreaker in her hand. “Time for you to go.”
“Uh…go where?”
She purses her lips, exasperated. “To your date with Flick.”
My laugh is dry. “Very funny, Rach. I have to?—”
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll stay tonight to help out. If we need you—which we probably won’t—we’ll call.”
My mouth drops open, and I shake my head. “No. I appreciate it, but you’re not working a double for me. I’ll reschedule with her for another time.”
She tries to shove the windbreaker into my arms, but I don’t accept it, leaving it to fall to the floor. “Come on, Sebastian. All you do is work. You deserve to have a social life, to find someone. Don’t tell me you don’t get lonely in that house at the end of the day.”
Damn. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound. Rach knows me better than anyone on this island, though, and she’s not afraid to weaponize that position—always in the most loving way, of course.
“I don’t get lonely in my house,” I say, “because I’m hardly ever there.”
Only once the words are out do I realize how pathetic I sound.
“We have it covered.” She picks up the windbreaker, and this time, I accept it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not trusting myself to say anything more. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing. This is what friends are for.” She pats my shoulder. “Go home and get changed.”
“I brought clothes.”
“Of course you did.” She smirks.
I’m already taking my garment bag out of the office closet. “Thank you, Rach. Really.”
“You taking care of yourself is all the thanks I need.” She closes the door, and I hurry to get dressed.
Even though I never would have asked Rach to cover for me, I’ll be eternally glad she did. Though Flick and I only just met, tonight feels special in that once-in-a-lifetime way. Tonight is my chance to make a real impression, and if I do, hopefully there will be many more nights—and days—in our shared future.
CHAPTER 7
Flick
After saying goodbye to Hannah, I decide to take a different route home. This one is a little easier, more of a straight line, but it takes longer. It doesn’t help that my chest protests each step, and I have to walk slower than normal. At least I can enjoy the scenery along the way.
A cool breeze wafts through downtown, carrying the salt-tinged air from the harbor. Laughter spills out of the restaurants on the corner—trivia night is in full swing somewhere, and someone just got an answer spectacularly wrong judging by the groans that follow.
Memories of Sebastian—his laugh, his kiss, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles—make something flutter in my chest. The feeling catches me off guard, like missing a step going downstairs. I press my hand against my sternum, but this time it’s not from pain. I’m aching to be pressed up against him again, his hands on my hips, his breath mingled with mine.
I haven’t thought too much about what I learned at our chronic crafting meetup—that Sebastian was married. The word sits heavy in my mind, like a skein of wool that’s been soaked through. While sitting there purling, I realized that it’s way too easy for me to jump to conclusions. Just like I used to misreadcode when I’d work too late, seeing bugs that weren’t there. I don’t know what Sebastian is looking for, and it’s too early to even put expectations on what we’re doing.
The only knowns are that I like him, he seems to like me, and we’re having a good time. That’s enough for me.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Tonight, the plan is to meet at my condo and go from there, which gives me some time to change into an outfit a little sexier than jeans and a T-shirt. The dye stain on my shirt catches the streetlight—cerulean blue, from one of this morning’s batches. Just as I’m about to reach the end of the block, though, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Pulling it out, I find a text from Sebastian.
