Page 14 of Sebastian

I nod to the waiter too, and he leaves with our empty glasses.

Christian clears his throat again and shakes his head once like he’s trying to clear something from his mind. “Sorry about that,” he says. He flashes me a smile, but it’s still too strained to be genuine.

“Is…” I’m not sure I should ask. Is it prying? Am I crossing a line? “… everything okay?”

Christian takes another one of those deep breaths and I try not to let my gaze drift to his chest, I really do. It’s hard, though. There’s so much of it, and it’s so enticing as it moves.

“Yeah, just…” Christian glances up at me and our gazes collide.

My lungs seize at the depth of emotion in Christian’s eyes. There’s a lot going on in there and I have no idea what any of it means, but I have a distinct feeling that we’ve stumbled on some old wound that might not be completely healed.

Christian tears his gaze away and I want to chase after it. I want to drag him back and figure out what happened, what hurt him, and what can I do to make it better.

I can’t do any of that though. It’s not my place. I might know every detail about Christian there is to know on the internet, but for all intents and purposes, we’re still little more than strangers. One personal training session and half of a dinner doesn’t make us anything more than acquaintances.

“So, can you tell me more about your business?” Christian’s voice is rough when he speaks. “How long have you been camming?”

I reach for a fry and finish eating it before I answer. The air around us is thick with whatever is going on in Christian’s head, with all of my unasked questions. “Since college. I drew up a business plan for a class project.”

Christian’s hand hovers in midair, holding a mozzarella stick. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “You what?”

I smile at his stunned reaction and some of the weight in the air dissipates. “I was a business major in college and I had to develop a complete business plan for one of my courses. Like, start-up costs, operating budget, product development, marketing plan, the whole works.”

“And you did a camboy business?” Christian’s expression is equal parts fascination and horror and it makes me smile wider.

“Yeah,” I say with a laugh. Sometimes people don’t believe me when I tell them this story. They think I’m making it up to show off or something, though I’m not sure how being a verified nerd is anything to brag about.

“And your instructor was okay with that?”

I shrug. “Actually, she thought it was a great idea. No one else had ever tried anything like it before. She said it was very appropriate for today’s economy.”

“Today’s economy?”

“Yeah, you know, influencers, content creators. She liked that I was applying traditional business concepts to something new.”

There’s a furrow between Christian’s brows as he looks at me, really looks at me, like he’s studying me, like I’m some new creature he’s seeing for the first time.

It makes me squirm in my seat. It makes me want to hide in delighted embarrassment. It makes my simmering lust for him bubble up to a boil.

“That’s… incredible,” Christian says.

I bite my lip because, OMG, the way he says that, quiet and dripping with awe, it makes my heart go all pitter-patter. Chris Preacher thinks I’m incredible. Me. Little, insignificant, anxiety-ridden me. How the hell is that even real?

He’s the incredible one. The crush I’ve harbored for years, the infatuation over this smoking hot celebrity, it builds inside me. Christian is way hotter than Chris Preacher. He’s got the personality that goes with the looks—he’s genuine and kind in addition to being gorgeous. Now that I know this version of him, that crush is quickly growing into something more, something dangerous.

His gaze heats me up and the longer he stares at me the hotter I get. I wasn’t imagining it before, there was some crazy chemistry brewing between us and it’s starting to react again.

Christian feels it too, I’m sure of it. I can see it in his eyes, the way they darken, in his lips, the way he licks them. He looks like a predator out on a hunt, and yeah, I’m the prey.

“I don’t do porn anymore,” he says, answering a question I didn’t ask. “I have my reasons.”

There’s all that emotion again. It’s in his voice this time, it’s rolling off him and hitting me right in the chest, making it hard to breathe. I don’t say anything because I hear a silent “but” in there somewhere.

“I like my life as it is.” It almost sounds like he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself.

My chest constricts and I want to give him a hug. I want to hold him and comfort him until whatever this is passes. Then I want to know what it is that could possibly have hurt him so much. It’s not my place to do any of this, but that doesn’t make me want it any less.

“You’ve built a good life for yourself,” I say quietly, trying to console the melancholy out of him.

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