Page 42 of Sebastian

“Why would I think that?”

“Because…” He gestures to himself. “I’m kinda crazy.”

“Sebastian,” I warn him. He knows I don’t like it when he speaks negatively about himself, and I’m not about to let him get away with it.

“No, I’m serious.” He’s drawing patterns on my hand again, wandering up my wrist this time to the inside of my forearm. “Some people are trying to reclaim the word ‘crazy.’ Like they did with ‘queer.’ Like, yeah, I’m crazy, I’m proud of it, so what?”

My eyebrows are halfway up my forehead. “Oh. Is that… how you describe yourself?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But I know I’m not normal.”

“Hey.” I reach across the table and tap his chin so he’s looking at me. “Normal’s overrated.”

The grin he gives me fills me with so much warmth and affection that I can’t do anything but sit there and stare at him for several beats. He’s gorgeous. Smart and sexy and not afraid to be vulnerable. He doesn’t seem real sometimes. Like how is it possible for someone to be all the good things in the world wrapped up in such a beautiful package?

Sebastian flips my hand so it’s palm down and he trails his finger up my arm. “Tell me about your tattoos?”

I glance at the flower on my forearm that he’s tracing. “The peonies were my mom’s favorites.”

His gaze flicks up to mine. “Were?”

A familiar melancholy washes through me. “Yeah, she’s passed. So is my dad. They had me when they were in their forties and then they both got sick when I was in my twenties.”

Sebastian draws his hand back down to intertwine his fingers with mine. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You were close with them?”

I nod. “Yeah. My mom used to put me to work in her garden.” I take Sebastian’s hand and bring it to the vintage cars on my other arm. “My dad owned a garage and he would put me to work there too.” I laugh at the memories. “I basically worked from the time I could walk on my own two feet.”

“It must’ve been hard to lose them,” Sebastian says, tracing the gear just under my elbow.

“Yeah, it was. But they were both sick for a long time, so… I threw myself into porn after. It paid well, it was fun, and it wasn’t like I had anyone who would disapprove.”

Sebastian’s finger pauses on the stylized version of the Pink Floyd album logo with a triangle and streaks of rainbow colors. “Pride.”

“Hmm.” I lift my arm to show the silhouette of two men kissing on the back of my biceps. “And here.”

“What’s this?” He points to a muddy-looking black splotch.

“Oh god,” I groan. “That’s supposed to be our family cat from when I was a kid.”

“That’s a cat?” Sebastian pulls my arm toward him to get a closer look.

“Yeah, it’s one of the first tattoos I got. A piece of advice if you’re ever getting tattooed—don’t go to the discount place.”

Sebastian snickers and giggles, and a delightful shiver runs up my spine at the bubbly sound.

“Right. Avoid the ninety-nine-cent tattoo shop.”

“And any two-for-one deals.”

“Would you get any more?”

I’m about to say no, but something stops me. “I don’t know. Maybe. If there’s something special I want to remember. Or someone.”

Sebastian’s lips part and he takes a sharp inhale. He knows I’m talking about him. That should scare me, but it doesn’t. The idea is oddly appealing, carrying around something of his, something that reminds me of him, on my body, having him with me forever… I think I want that. I’m pretty sure I want that.

“I don’t know,” I say again. “We’ll see. Maybe someday.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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