Page 15 of Sebastian

Guilt washes over me for monopolizing his time, and I start to remove his jacket when he stops me with a gentle touch.

“Keep it for now. It looks good on you.”

As we walk back to the party, I wonder what I’m doing alone with him when I’m unsure what I want. Or if I want anything at all from him. However, if he keeps kissing me like that, I know one thing I’d want from him—sex.

7

SEBASTIAN

Chloe’s unexpected comment about my parents catches me off-guard, and I quickly realize I need to nip it in the bud. I’ve learned long ago that when women bring up this topic, they often want to delve into my past and explore my feelings about it.

It usually leads to sympathy fucking or attempts to “fix” me, a pattern I’ve encountered for years. I recognize it immediately and instinctively prepare to disengage from the conversation as swiftly as possible.

My sudden bluntness has taken her aback, evident from her shift into a quieter and more contemplative demeanor as I guide us out of the garden and back up to the tennis courts. I should say something more, explain it so that it doesn’t appear rude, but I don’t do that. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

The closer we get to the party, the louder the music gets, and when I feel her hand on my arm, I glance at her. The attraction between us sparks something pleasant and unexpected that I still want to explore.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down on your festive night.” Her voice is soft and apologetic as the Christmas lightsreflect in her bright blue eyes. It takes everything in me not to kiss her into silence or forgiveness. Either one will work. “And thank you for including me as Mrs. Claus. It was fun.”

Her smile is bright and genuine, confirming that I did the right thing even if I initially felt guilty about blindsiding her. When I can’t resist kissing her again, Chloe lightly presses against my chest to halt me.

“Did you hear me?”

Her question pulls me from my haze of desire. The answer is clear, but words aren’t my forte right now. I’d prefer expressing myself through kisses, especially with Chloe looking captivating bundled in my coat.

“Yes.”

I lean forward, ready to show her how much I forgive her, when those small hands push against me again.

“Sebastian, I’m serious.”

Her words reluctantly halt my advances, forcing my desire to simmer in the background. Her furrowed brows make her intent unmistakable. I’m serious, too, just about different things. I want to kiss her now and, if I’m lucky, have her in my bed later.

“Chloe.” I step back, forcing her hands to fall away. “I’m not good with this emotional stuff. I’m a fuck up if you haven’t noticed.”

Her expression softens with compassion as her head tilts.

“You don’t seem like a fuck-up to me. Look at this event. What about that long line of kids that you made happy? That went home with Christmas gifts today. Not to mention all the people here tonight. Look around.”

She looks around, gesturing to different features like the skating rink, which was my idea, and the live band, which is a throwback to my parents’ parties.

“I guess.”

Her hand rests on my arm as she closes the distance between us.

“We all have our issues, and feelings are tough. We’re not that different, you and me. I know firsthand how easy it is to put up a persona to not allow anyone in, but it only increases the loneliness.”

I appreciate her kindness and the fact that she doesn’t judge me for my candidness. It makes me feel more at ease with her, even if I want to avoid divulging my feelings and have fun instead.

“Thanks, you’ve saved me from drowning in sappy emotions. How about we ditch the seriousness and hit the ice?”

Chloe throws her head back and laughs, her carefree sound infectiously lifting my spirits and clearing away the heavy conversation.

“You really can’t handle any more serious talk, can you?” she teases, and I chuckle.

“Not a chance, hot stuff. Let’s go have some fun.”

I offer her my arm, which she easily snakes her hand around before we climb the rest of the stairs to the festivities.

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