“I wasn’t snooping. I just came in to see if you had any wine and . . . I guess the photo caught my attention.”
Sebastian nodded. He walked around to where I stood and pulled open the drawer. Taking out the key, he unlocked the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of red wine. He tilted it to show me the label. “This okay?”
“Does it have alcohol?”
He chuckled. “Got ya. Fill your glass to the brim.”
“Thank you.”
Sebastian uncorked the bottle and filled one glass, then stuffed the cork back in.
“Aren’t you having any?” I said.
He handed me the very full glass. “Maybe later. I need to keep my head clear right now.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Come on. Let’s go sit in the living room.”
Together we sat on the couch. While I sipped my wine and waited, Sebastian held his head in his hands and stared down at the floor. It made my heart hurt that he looked as pained as I felt. The man had been through so much; I needed to make this easy for him. So I took a giant gulp of liquid courage and set my glass down on the end table before moving closer to him.
“Sebastian . . . it’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to say anything. We had fun, but you don’t want more than that. It’s fine. You don’t have to feel bad.”
“Is that what you think? That I feel bad because I’m done with you?”
My brows drew together. “Isn’t that what you’re stressing over? Hurting my feelings?”
He started to laugh maniacally. Shaking his head, he pointed to the glass I’d just set down. “Give me that, will ya?”
I handed it to him and watched as he downed the entire contents of my glass. Offering it back, he said, “Fuck a clear head. I just need some balls.”
Was he saying what I thought he was saying? I fought to not let my hopes get up. “I don’t understand.”
He raked his hands through his hair and turned to face me. “How was your date tonight, Sadie?” He’d said the word “date” weird, almost spitting out the “t,” as if the word itself sickened him.
“It was . . . fine.”
“Well, I’m glad. Then at least one of us had a good evening.”
“You didn’t have a good night?”
“Let’s see . . . I broke the handle off an oven, burned my arm twice, put in three orders wrong, and almost fired a waitress who did nothing wrong. And that was all before six o’clock.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I couldn’t focus, Sadie. The thought of you going out with another man—no less a half dozen men while speed dating—makes me feel violent.”
“It was eight actually.”
He scoffed. “Thanks. That makes me feel a hell of a lot better.”
I’d been so certain that he was coming home to break things off that even though he’d just told me he hated the thought of me dating anyone else, I still guarded my heart.
“If you didn’t want me to go, why didn’t you tell me that? Or better yet, why didn’t you even call me this week?”
“Because I feel like I’m not supposed to want another woman all to myself.”
I swallowed. “But you do? You want me like that?”
Sebastian looked into my eyes. “I want you in every way, Sadie. And that scares the shit out of me.”
I smiled sadly. “If it makes you feel any better, you scare me, too.”
“I want to move on. But I have so much guilt about doing it.” He shook his head. “Did you ever play tug-of-war in school when you were a kid?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“You know how they told you not to wrap the rope around your hand?”
“Yeah . . .”
“Well, that’s sort of what I feel like I’m doing right now. I’m playing tug-of-war, only I have the rope wrapped around my hand really tight because I’ve been afraid to let go for so long. But now my circulation is getting cut off. And if I don’t just let go of the damn thing, I’m going to cause more damage than I would if I just finally let go.”
I looked down at Sebastian’s hands. They were balled so tight, almost like he was physically hanging on to that imaginary rope. And I wanted to help him, even if it wasn’t to tug him to my side and win the game. So I reached over and gently pried his fist open, then put my hand inside his and held on.
Sebastian stared down at our joined hands for a long time. “I want you to be mine, Sadie.”
My heart thumped in my chest. “I’m pretty sure I have been from the start.”
He smiled. “I’m sorry about this week. For acting like such a dick after our afternoon together.”
“It’s okay. Just talk to me next time. I get you’re going to have mixed feelings, and I’ll give you space when you need it.”