Pathetic.
Like a crack addict waiting for a fix I swore I didn’t need.
Then my phone rings.
An unsaved number.
I almost ignore it.
Almost.
I answer—and the moment he speaks, I know.
“Sienna.”
My breath catches. “Yes.”
“I can’t stay away from you any longer,” he says.
He doesn’t introduce himself. He doesn’t need to. It’s as if he knows he’s etched himself into my mind, carved into some permanent place under my skin.
“You said one date, Sebastian.”
“And I usually keep my word,” he replies. “But this time…you’re in my head.”
His voice is rougher than I remember. Strained.
“Sebastian—”
“I’m in my car,” he continues. “I’m driving to you right now. Tell me to turn back, and I will. I won’t come to you.”
My heart pounds.
“But if you don’t,” he adds quietly, “be ready in twenty minutes.”
Silence stretches between us.
I don’t speak.
Neither does he.
The seconds feel enormous. Heavy. Charged.
Finally, he exhales. “See you soon.”
The call ends.
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Sienna, what are you doing?”
There’s no answer.
Instead, I spring to my feet and scramble around my apartment—pulling out clothes, fixing my hair, glancing at the door like it might open any second.
Whatever this is…I’m already in too deep.
***
Sebastian doesn’t take me to a bar or another restaurant.
