“Just don’t burn yourself out,” I cautioned instead.
“I won’t.” He fell silent, shifting until he was flat on what I presumed was some sort of couch, his arms extended to hold his phone above his face. “Fuck, I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I said, my voice cracking.
“I know this week has been …” He trailed off, seeming to search for the right word. “I hate that we haven’t been able to talk. That I can’t just come home at the end of the day and see you.”
“I know. Me too.” I hated how much I needed to hear his voice, how I spent every night waiting for these scraps of connection.
“It won’t always be this intense. Once I get through this initial push—once everyone trusts me—I’ll try to set more regular hours.”
I looked down, picking at a loose thread on the quilt. I wanted to believe that. Wanted to imagine some future where I wasn’t constantly checking my phone, my heart leaping at every notification, only to crash when it wasn’t him or fall asleep with it clutched to my chest. But I couldn’t help but worry that as the election drew closer, Sebastian’s responsibilities would multiply, not diminish. And soon, my own schedule would become a problem, too, creating a perfect storm of two people with no time to spare for each other—no matter how much we wanted to.
“How much more work do you have left tonight?” I asked, fighting a yawn.
“Probably another hour or two.”
Fuck. Another two hours after a day that had started at six o'clock in the morning.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he said gently.
“I’m fine.” I was actually ready to crash, but if this was all the time I got with him, I’d find a way to power through.
“Taylor,” he said, his voice quietly chastising.
I blinked slowly, betraying myself. “Okay, maybe I am tired.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll text you in the morning.”
“I don’t want to hang up yet,” I whispered, my grip tightening on my phone.
The corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes crinkling. “You just blinked for five whole seconds.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat as my jaw stretched open in a yawn so wide it made my eyes water. I rubbed them with the heel of my hand.
“Okay,” I relented. “But call me tomorrow? Even if it’s late.”
He sat up, dragging his free hand through his hair. “I will, I promise.” His voice softened. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Goodnight.”
“Night.”
The screen went dark. I set the phone on my nightstand charger and rolled onto my side, pulling “his” pillow against my chest and burying my face in it. It still smelled like his shampoo, barely there, but lingering.
I fell asleep smiling.
CHAPTER 21
SEBASTIAN
When I wasthree blocks from the arena, I texted Taylor to let him know I was almost there. I didn’t expect him to respond, but he immediately sent back a thumbs-up emoji, followed by a heart.
I pocketed my phone and joined the scattered throngs of people in Marauders gear heading toward the building. Preseason games for a franchise still finding its footing didn’t exactly pack the house.
At will-call, I showed my ID to the guy behind the window and accepted the ticket he passed my way.
