“It’s this beige modern block that doesn’t really match any of the surrounding buildings. There’s a coffee shop on the ground floor that’s never open when I actually need it to be.”
I spotted it almost immediately and pulled into the garage next to it. My tires squealed as I stopped in the nearest open space. I killed the engine, grabbed my phone, and climbed out, walking fast.
“Is your light on right now?” I asked, standing beneath what I hoped was his window.
“How would you know my—” His breath caught. “Taylor.”
“There’s a light on the third floor. Tell me that’s you.”
“That’s me,” he whispered. “I’m the only one staying here right now.”
“Buzz me in, Seb.”
A sound that was a mix between a laugh and a gasp reached my ear, and then the building’s front door buzzed loudly.
I yanked it open and took the stairs two at a time.
Sebastian was standing barefoot in a third-floor doorway, dressed in navy sleep pants and a white t-shirt, his face freshly shaved. His eyes were red-rimmed and wide, looking at me like it was impossible that I was actually here.
I didn’t pause. I didn't slow down. I walked straight to my man, cupped his face in both hands, and kissed him.
CHAPTER 28
SEBASTIAN
Taylor groaned against my mouth,the vibrations rippling through my entire body, and then his hands were on my chest, and he was pushing me inside the apartment.
The door slammed shut behind us.
“You’re here,” I said between kisses. “You’re actually here.”
“Of course I’m fucking here.” He pressed me against the wall and settled his face in the crook of my neck where it met my shoulder, breathing me in. “Where else would I be?” he whispered against my skin, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly there.
My hands slid under his jacket and up his back, pulling him close enough that I was sure he could feel me shaking against him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know.” He kissed my forehead. My temple. The hinge of my jaw.
“I was stupid and angry and?—”
“Stop.” He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, catching a stray tear.
I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“We can talk about all of that later, but right now, I just need—” His voice gave out. “I just need you.”
I needed him, too. So fucking much.
I pulled him in by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him the way I’d been dreaming about for weeks. His lips parted, and I took everything he was offering—his breath, his weight leaning into me, the small, desperate groan he made when my teeth caught his lower lip. I kissed him until my lungs burned, and then I kissed him some more.
I bent my knees and clasped my hands under Taylor's thighs to lift him into my arms. For one suspended second, we were eye to eye. Then he kissed me like the world was ending, his legs locking around my waist.
His hands fisted in my hair, and we moved—graceless and urgent—down the hall. His shoulder knocked two generic black-and-white art prints askew. My shoulder caught the doorframe that led into the bedroom, and I swore against his mouth.
Taylor pulled back, his eyes dancing with laughter. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I said, which was a lie. My shoulder was definitely going to bruise. I didn’t care even a little bit. “Don’t stop.”
