Page 19 of Playing For Keeps

Warmth spread through him at her words, at her sharing in his joy and validating him. It was new and different, having someone be happy for him.

I didn’t want to bug you at work.

I wanted… to talk about it with someone I guess. Thank you.

He didn’t want her to feel obligated to do something with him to celebrate. Especially something this small, even though, in the scheme of things, it was what he needed.

Not bugging me at all!

I’m serious. Let me know when you get off work tonight and I’ll meet you.

You worked hard for this!

He relented, folding into his sentimentality far too quickly. Sebastian warned Farren it might be late, he might not get out of the office at regular time since Andrew dropped extra work in his lap, and he was wholly unprepared.

She didn’t care.

When he clocked out that evening—after an afternoon of admin work and unwavering looks from his competitor—Sebastian shot her a text message with his ETA and his address.

They probably should have agreed to meet at a bar or something in the vicinity, but he didn’t have it in him to be in a big crowd of people tonight. His mind whirred with far too much, and having Farren there was going to be a lot to handle as it was.

He stepped off the Metro, walking the distance to his apartment, slightly taken aback when he saw her waiting outside his duplex in the fading daylight. Farren leaned up against his car with a bottle of Prosecco in her hand.

“Hi,” he said lamely, the day wearing him down.

“Hi,” she responded, a little shy, which he thought seemed out of character. She seemed to get over it fairly quickly because she pushed off of the hood and walked over to where he waited.

“Congratulations!” she beamed and rose up onto her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Something inside Sebastian’s chest throbbed at the contact, at how sweet it was of her to do this, to be here for him.

“Thank you.”

The words were soft, slightly choked up with an emotion he had no name for, and he wrapped her up in a big hug, relishing her warmth and the soft give of her against him. It was his turn to walk her up to his apartment. For once, he was happy his anxiety demanded a clean environment, given it would be her first impression of his place. They shucked their shoes inside the door, and he noticed her socks were covered in multicolored books, his own plain navy blue looking sad in comparison. Not unlike his apartment.

Sebastian knew it needed personal touches. After how long he’d been here, it was a little embarrassing that the most effort he’d put into making the space his own was putting up a rod and curtains over the blinds that came with it. The rest was furniture he’d accumulated over time, understated but comfortable. He wondered what her apartment looked like, kicking himself a little for not going inside when she’d invited him on Saturday night.

It was probably like her: loud, personable, with a bunch of different colors. He hoped he’d get the chance to see if his assumption was correct. They stood in the kitchen, part of the wall open to the living room, divided by the breakfast nook and bracketed on each side with the wall. She still held the bottle in her hand, raising it slightly and asking, “Glasses?”

Sebastian pointed to a cabinet near where she stood and watched her place the bottle on the fake-marble-but-actually-laminate countertop, rising onto her toes to search for them. He knew he didn’t have any wine flutes, nothing besides regular old drinking glasses.

“Sorry, I don’t have any stemware,” he admitted, shifting slightly, uncomfortable because he didn’t know how to act.

The last time he’d had a woman in his place—not this one, back in Ohio—was for a middle-of-the-night pitch prep for the biggest project of his career. There hadn’t been time to get to know the contents of his cupboard. Farren was the first woman he’d let into his cabinets.

She went with it, no complaints, nothing besides a smile tossed over her shoulder when he spoke and her hands wrapping around two glasses to set them down on the counter. Farren held the bottle out for him, a silent question of whether he’d like to pop the cork, but he shook his head. It was fun to hang back, enjoying her energy and watching her move around his space. Farren leaned over the sink, trying her best to prepare.

Her thumbs poised against the cork, pressing slightly, her face scrunched into a bit of a grimace before the sound even happened. She closed her eyes, more force behind her press, and finally it burst free with a loud POP. A slight yelp escaped her mouth as frothy sparkling wine trickled down her fingers and into the sink. Farren giggled at her own reaction, and Sebastian was helpless, following her in her mirth. She was adorable. Incredible. Too goddamned stunning standing in his kitchen with wine dripping down her hand and her smile so bright, it made something in his chest give way.

Sebastian didn’t stop to think, didn’t give his brain a chance to catch up. Stepping up to her, freeing her of the bottle, he set it aside on the counter and turned her hand over in his palm. He pressed his lips to the pulse point at her wrist, a kiss followed by a bit of a taste, sweet wine and her, already too intoxicating for his own good. Part of him wanted to keep going, savoring the heady combination, especially when he heard that slight inhalation at the back of her throat at the contact.

He should probably behave, especially since he wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea. Better to mitigate risk, and so it was prudent to keep it out of the bedroom.

There’s plenty you can do outside the bedroom, his desire spoke up, pushing through the part of him that was focusing on anything but the feel of her hand in his—slightly sticky and saccharine. He let go gently, stepping aside to pour them each a portion, bubbles fizzing, and he took a sip to try and still the fight inside of him. Farren ran the faucet, rinsing the alcohol from her hand, her cheeks flushed against her pale skin.

“Thank you again for this. It’s really sweet of you.” More than he deserved, especially from her.

“Of course. It’s a big deal, and I’m really happy for you!” She lifted her glass, clinking it against his own. “Congratulations, Sebastian.”

They each sipped the cool liquid, not quite chilled but still good regardless, and it wormed through him with a slow-spreading heat. He hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, hours ago, and although he wasn’t quite a lightweight, his empty stomach would not help matters.

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