For the first time in a long time, insecurity bubbled up inside her. She’d spent years learning to love and accept her body, and she did. It took years to take proper care of herself, instead of trying to punish her body for not looking the way she wanted it to or working the way she wanted it to. Her hypothyroidism threw her off for a long time, influencing her confidence and the way she felt on a daily basis. Farren had come far from the little fat girl who hid behind chunky sweaters and wore T-shirts to the pool.
It rankled now, to have that small part of her pipe up, inching its insidious way into her head. She wondered if he even wanted her in that way. Conversation was great, the vibes were immaculate, but he made no move during their date, nothing besides holding her hand to the car. For the first time since she’d met him, she wondered if maybe she just wasn’t his type.
It didn’t last; and it genuinely didn’t matter. Sebastian didn’t determine her worth or her sexiness. If she wasn’t for him, then that was his choice and held no bearing on her as a person. But she hoped.
Because she wanted him.
Every repressed, midwestern, shy inch of him.
They pulled up to a spot in front of her building, the inky night interspersed with pools of light from the street lamps. Little rectangles of yellow luminosity threw shapes onto the sidewalk from between curtains people neglected to shut. The hum of the car faded, the slight vibration gone from the seat, and the song playing on the radio was silenced with the turn of his key.
She looked over at him, fighting the nerves in her stomach in order to ask.
“Walk me up?”
Sebastian merely nodded, unfastening his seatbelt and stepping out onto the tar. He walked around the car quickly while Farren gathered her purse, opening the door for her, and fuck if it didn’t make her want to jump him right there.
His hand wrapped around hers again, and this time, she noticed the tiniest tremor.
They walked the distance to the door, and it was thankfully too late for her neighbor to be out and about, but the light up Jack-o-Lantern in one of the windows illuminated the main steps. He followed her up the stairs to her apartment. Farren let go briefly to try to fish her keys out of her bag, and she slotted the cold metal into the lock, hesitating before she turned it.
She looked back at Sebastian, and his face was drawn in an expression she couldn’t read. It was intense, almost a little intimidating, with his hands fisted at his sides. Farren knew it was now or never.
“Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time.” It was barely above a whisper, the staircase around them abandoned, the sound bouncing across the tile, just her door behind her and Sebastian ahead.
“I did too.” His voice was deep, a little husky, and he frowned for a moment before he stepped forward, crowding into her space.
The door was cold against her back, Sebastian so close, she could feel the heat radiating off his chest. She clutched her purse for dear life, the other hand reaching out to touch his chest. His heartbeat thrummed a tattoo under the fabric of his shirt, her fingers holding on slightly to pull him down the rest of the way.
It was sweet, brief. The slightest of impressions when his lips pressed against hers, and something in her chest burst free. It seemed to rush through her entire body, nerves and desire mingling until it roiled inside of her. Sebastian didn’t seem unaffected, either.
Resting his forehead against hers, not ready to pull away completely, his breath was harsh against her cheek. Farren felt his heart thunder under her hand and risked another touch, reaching up to cup his cheek.
Sebastian looked down at her, seemingly at war with himself, and she wondered which part would win out—the strait-laced man she’d come to expect, or something else entirely.
She was answered by a slight growl. His thick thigh pressed between hers, his arm wrapping around her, the other hand framing her jaw and tangling into her hair. Sebastian’s lips claimed hers again. There was the vague realization she must have dropped her purse because her other hand was suddenly free and splayed through his hair just like she’d wanted to earlier.
The scent of cologne filled her nose, those dark and misty notes reminding her of the woods near where she grew up. Sebastian’s body braced hers against the door, and the way he kissed her, the fervor with which he touched her, left no confusion as to whether he wanted her.
Farren had no idea how long they stood there in the dim landing to her apartment, but by the time he was through, when he finally pulled away and she could see his lips swollen from their kisses… she wanted nothing more than to invite him inside and lose herself in his arms.
His gaze was heavy, drinking in every inch of her, before he leaned back down to pepper some kisses across the column of her neck. Farren was slightly embarrassed at the moan that escaped her throat, a little put out when he pulled back from her, almost panting.
He ran a hand through his thoroughly mussed hair, taking a step away from her.
“Sebastian,” she started, the question on the tip of her tongue, the invitation plain.
“Farren.” It was almost a plea, interrupting her before she had the chance to get the words out.
She looked up at him—heart in her throat, thighs quivering to keep her upright—her legs leaden and jelly-like as if she’d been running.
“This has been a phenomenal first date.” His words were sweet, but they felt like an end to a conversation, not a continuation.
“Sebastian…” She tried again, and this time, he held up a hand, a light chuckle working its way up from his chest.
“Please, I’m trying to keep my head about me here. I have to go, before this gets even harder to walk away from.”
Logically, she knew he was right. On paper, it was the smart move. Emotionally, she was a mess. A shaky, lustful mess. He must have seen something on her face because he dared another kiss, one on her forehead this time.