Get a grip, Annalise. You’re stronger than this.
“You wanted to talk,” Sebastian says, finally breaking the tension and causing some of the heat to leave my cheeks.
I nod and pull my leg up on the chair, wrapping my arms around it and resting my chin on my knee. I’m not going to run from this, because it’s not me, but I’ll use it as my own sort of pretend armour.
“Why now?” I ask. “Why are you now telling me about your feelings and what Walker said? That was eight years ago. You’ve let us spend eight years apart, you’ve let me spend eight years hating you, instead of being pissed at my brother. What changed?”
He sighs and grips his neck. “I found out about your parents selling the cabin and how you were coming up here for a final trip. It felt full circle and like my only shot at getting to see you and maybe clear the air.”
I nod. I can see his logic. In the city, I’d probably have left as soon as I saw him, doing everything to avoid speaking to him, and wouldn’t have given him the time of day. Hell, when he showed up here, the first thing I did was try to kick him out. If it wasn’t for that damn snowstorm, he’d be back in the city right now.
“What about Walker? You said yourself he’s your best friend.”
Sebastian moves his chair closer to mine, so he’s right in front of me. “I love Walker like a brother. He’s been there for me every time I’ve needed it. If he truly loves me like a brother, too, then he’ll want what’s best for me and what makes me happy. Knowing you were dating other people killed me. The thought that you’d decide to spend your life with someone else, that they’d be the one to be able to sit and watch you as that soft smile takes over your face when you find the perfect thing to capture with your camera…” His voice fades, and he closes his eyes before opening them and finding mine again. “I haven’tbeen able to get over you in the last eight years. I’m done trying. I’m not going to let Walker stop me anymore. If you want to, I’d like to give this a shot. I want to show you how much I’ve thought about you over the last eight years and how, even as a teenager, you were who I wanted.”
His fingers flex on his leg as though he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch me. The thought has me biting my lip as I hold back a smile.
“What happens if we don’t work out? What do we do then?” I ask.
He rubs his hands up and down his thighs, releasing a breath. “We agree to be friends. No more of this constantly avoiding me. We agree that we’ll do things with your brother—assuming he doesn’t completely disown me as a friend—and we’ll know we gave it a shot.”
I rest my forehead against my knee and close my eyes. As much as this is my teenage dream come true, can I risk the pain? It took me months to recover from his rejection years ago. Back then, I hadn’t even kissed him, let alone slept with him. That will only make the pain so much worse, but will it have been worth it to know we tried? To finally know that neither of us are holding back and if it doesn’t work out, it’s because we’re truly not meant for each other in that way.
I raise my head and meet his hesitant eyes. I see the fear that I’ll say no in them.
“We’ll take it slow,” I say, and a smile spreads across his face. He grips the leg of my chair and pulls me so close I can’t put my leg down between the chairs. It would have to go over his. He delicately runs the backs of his knuckles up my leg, and I fight the shiver that wants to go through me.
“Does slow mean I can’t kiss you?” he asks, his voice husky, full of want.
I swallow before saying, “No.”
He helps me move my leg, draping it over his thigh, and trails his hand up my thigh and up my arm. My eyes flutter shut as I focus on the feeling of his touch. It’s featherlight as he takes his time moving up my arm and across my shoulder until his thumb finds my bottom lip.
“Look at me.”
My eyes fly open. Those simple touches already have me all worked up. My skin feels like it’s on fire, and my breathing has increased.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, and I only manage a nod before he’s leaning in and dusting his lips over mine.
This kiss is softer than the one upstairs. More exploring. I moan into his mouth as his tongue swipes at my lips and part for him. His hands find my hips as mine find his hair. With one powerful move, he pulls me to the edge of my chair and almost onto his lap. We take our time exploring with not just the kiss but our hands. I run mine up his chest, holding back a moan at just how fit he feels under his shirt.
I could get lost in this kiss; let it go much further than intended. Something about kissing Sebastian feels right. That has me breaking the kiss, sliding back in my chair, and saying, “Snowman.”
Sebastian gives me a confused look, and I offer him a soft smile.
“Let’s go build a snowman.”
The confusion doesn’t leave his face, but he nods and pushes his chair back, giving me more space. I quickly move to the door and start throwing on layers while Sebastian follows suit, and we head outside. The cold air has a bite to it that I need to get me off my lust-drunk high.
Slow. I’ve got to take this slow and learn who Sebastian is now after eight years. I doubt he’s the exact same person he was. We’ve both experienced life since then.
He follows me into the snow where I start working on the base of the snowman. He works with me for a few minutes in silence before he stands and stares at me.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, and I immediately stop what I’m doing.
“No. Why?”
His hand moves up and down in front of me. “You pulled away from that kiss like you couldn’t get away fast enough.” I can’t tell if that’s hurt or pain, or maybe both, lacing his voice.
