Page 77 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
“Okay.” I nod, disappointed, but I can’t pretend my eyelids aren’t getting heavier, my reactions aren’t getting slower, that the ache in my body isn’t ever increasing, even if I’m satisfied in the knowledge Sebastian does maybe like me too.
I might have gotten hit, but this is totally a good day.
I’m quiet as Sebastian prepares me for bed, then he leads me to the bed, undoes the covers and points.
“You tucking me in?”
“Uh-huh.”
I slide in happily, and he starts to pull the cover up, but I frown, disappointed. “You’re getting in.”
“There’s another bed for me,” he explains.
“I want you beside me.”
His eyes soften. I don’t often ask for what I want, but I’m bossy where Sebastian is concerned. I’ll be bossy for both of us.
“You’re still Mr. Right,” he says. “I’m still the host of your TV dating show.”
“I know.”
“We can’t be together.”
I’m quiet. This is where I say “I know” again, but even though I like agreeing with Sebastian, even though I like telling him he’s right, I’m silent.
“There has to be a way.”
He gives me a sad smile. “When you wake up in the morning, we can pretend this never happened.”
“I’ll never do that.”
“But if you change your mind, you can. I won’t hold it against you.”
I frown, then so does Sebastian, and I hate that the tips of his lips are diving downward.
“Lie next to me,” I say. “I want to feel you. I want to know you’re here.”
“You’re still injured...”
“I’ll be good,” I say.
He hesitates, but then he slides into the bed beside me. He faces away from me, but I pull him toward me, and flick off the light switch next to the bed. We might be enshrined in darkness, but I want our faces next to each other. I hold him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he holds me, pulling me closer, so our breaths merge, his grasp firmer, stronger than anything I’m used to.
Sleep comes easily, and when I wake for the final time, I am still clutching him. Sebastian sleeps tucked against me, his blond locks against my chest, his slender, elegant fingers clutching my t-shirt. His mouth is parted, as if he’s mid-kiss, and his lashes flutter. I want to memorize everything.
A buzzing sound that wasn’t here before fills the room like an angry insect.
Sebastian’s eyes flick open.
“Good morning,” I say, shifting him as I lunge for the phone.
He nods, but alarm fills the blue of his eyes, and I hope it’s because of the sound of the phone, and not because of us.
It’s his phone in the end, and I pass it to him.
He sighs. “Hi Ella.”
He moves from the bed, and I am cold. I lie back, but there is no sleeping. The day is beginning.
