Page 28 of Playing For Keeps

Despair seemed to sit on him like a second skin, a heavy burden he forgot he carried until moments like this, when he pulled the curtain aside and revealed the coldness inside. A coldness melting under her gaze, the way something in him seemed to burn for only her.

“Sebastian.” It was compassion, a caress. Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she contemplated what he’d said.

“I’m sorry. I’ve said way too much.” He cleared his throat, moving to get up, to get away from those dark eyes that saw far too much and promised a reprieve from all he languished under. Sebastian moved from the hand she perched on his knee, rubbing soothing circles. He had to leave. A few steps and he’d be out the door. A few minutes until he could be free of this.

“Wait, please.” The words stilled him, his feet planted to the scarred wooden floors, staring at the door with her at his back, this evening’s game night an eon away.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry they hurt you. They sound like shitty parents, and even though they loved you in the way they could, it doesn’t mean it’s enough. Trust me, I know. I understand. You’re not alone.” Fabric shuffled behind him, Farren’s socked feet making soft footfalls as she stepped up to him.

She wound her arms under his, around his torso, planting a kiss in the center of his back. He lifted a hand to one of hers, stroking the outside of her fingers where they gripped his shirt, over the knuckles and encircling her wrist to pry her hand away.

“I guess we’re both a little gun shy, huh?” he asked, turning in her embrace to look down at her. Sebastian tucked an errant curl behind her ear, stroking down the edge of her ear and to her neck, planting his hand in the mass of her hair.

His lips found hers, once. Twice. Building in intensity until they were both trembling in her living room. Sebastian rested his forehead against hers, their frantic breathing mingling. She held onto him, and he did the same. Hands roving over the generous give of her body, relishing the way she seemed to melt against him when he’d heaved her closer and closer still. Both of them shivered, and his breath came in little pants that were a clear testament to how affected he was.

“I should go, before this turns into something far harder to disentangle from.” He softened the words with light kisses pressed to the freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and over her cheekbones.

“I’ll miss you,” she said, devastating him. Those few words gave him the validation he’d craved from his family for so many years.

“I’ll miss you too, Farren.”

Farren should have known it couldn’t last. The bubble she found herself in, the tentative groove at work, her comfort with her friends and hobbies—the budding promise of something amazing with Sebastian and a renewed fire for her game idea… She had a propensity to self-sabotage, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she was falling back into old habits, or manifesting negative energy with her own doubts.

The week started fine, and then she’d had a rough day at school. One of the children, a little boy who didn’t want to say goodbye to his mom at drop-off, was tearful all day. When Farren tried to get him to engage in a group activity—he wailed that he wanted his mom and kicked her in the shin. Which hurt. Farren tried to cuss under her breath, really she did. How was she supposed to know the kid heard her? Or that he would repeat it immediately and loudly? And the other kids would follow suit?

Of course that was the class the assistant principal chose to observe.

Sebastian had back-to-back meetings, despite the fact it was practically October, so close she could taste it. Then as the week continued and they crossed the threshold from September—what was supposed to be the end of Sebastian’s suspense period—and he still didn’t have time for her… Well, her mood only soured more.

Sebastian was trying. He was so incredibly sweet. But she wanted his midnights. She wanted to go out for dinner with him and not have him pass out halfway through. Farren felt guilty for him ignoring much-needed sleep when he sat bleary-eyed and stressed out of his mind. He apologized, explaining his position leading up for this big pitch meant researching not only the company but their competitors for this idea. He spoke to her about coding until midnight, and although the confidentiality around the project prevented him from saying too much—she got the impression this was a career-maker. By the weekend, he was grumpy, and tired, and Farren wished she could make it all go away.

Since their conversation last Friday, she’d been thinking about him constantly, how vulnerable he’d been, and the age-old hurt that seemed to linger so close under the surface, Farren was surprised she hadn’t recognized it sooner.

So, even though she was miffed at not getting to see him as much as she would have liked, he more than made up for it by showing up some nights with bags of craft items from Michaels. Sebastian was bound and determined to help her realize her pipe dream, the vague idea she had for a game slowly shaping itself under their hands.

He laughed when she somehow found glitter he hadn’t purchased, flicking some onto him. Sebastian joked he’d never get rid of it all; when he died one day, there’d still be at least one fleck of gleaming silver on his skin. Farren promised to kiss every inch to make sure they got it all before it came to that. It was worth it to watch him blush, his neck turning an endearing shade of pink.

Soon, she hoped. Soon, she would be able to do more than just ruffle his feathers and enjoy the shyness that was such an anomaly to her, from a distance. They’d have uninterrupted nights, maybe even time away. Farren was really starting to resent the double vibrations inching his phone across the coffee table and drawing his focus away from their time together.

She could tell exhausting himself at work and trying to fit moments in with her took its toll on him. They saw each other once a week for the first part of October. Fall snuck in, blasting the area with a chill that brought everyone excitement over pumpkin spice and sweaters. Gourds lined the steps in front of residential doors. Only for the weather to turn into days hovering in the mid-eighties. It was the kind of whiplash she’d learned to expect from the area.

By the time they hit the third week of the month, Farren was prickling with an agitation she couldn’t explain. Maybe it was sexual frustration, maybe just plain-old, regular frustration.

She’d already snapped at Corinne on the phone when she made an innocent comment about Farren and her future, another one of those vague notions toward how unmoored she was, how nothing ever tethered or bothered her. When her friend made that comment, the one about how Farren was so fun and fancy free, it rankled stronger than she could ignore. Corinne talked about how she had so little at stake. Not knowing the work Farren put into the game, into maybe having a dream become a reality for once in her life.

It was a twinge of jealousy from Corinne’s side, Farren assumed. Luis’s mother moved in with them, and since then, Corinne had been walking a tightrope of anxiety and misery. Farren suggested a girl’s day to smooth things over.

They walked the gleaming floors of the mall, somehow still clinging on to life despite the influence of online shopping. It felt stilted, though. Corinne was caught up in her stuff, and somewhere between the pretzel stand and the department store they headed toward, it irked Farren past the point of being able to listen to the tirade.

This shopping date was supposed to clear her mind and give Corinne a bit of a reprieve from her home situation. Instead, Corinne’s complaining started to wear Farren down.

Corinne wished out loud she could walk away from it all, for a short time. Pick up and put things down on a whim. Not knowing that Farren wrestled with how badly she wanted Sebastian to stick around.

“It must be so nice not to have constant responsibility. No one follows you into the bathroom or criticizes your every move. Being alone has its perks. I wish I was free to care less, like you,” Corinne said.

It was insulting. Sure, Farren’s track record wasn’t the best, but she was trying with Sebastian. They were putting as much time as they could into their relationship, plus he’d helped her with her idea. It was shaping into something tangible, on both counts. Sebastian knew her deeper than many of the men who passed through her life like ships in the night. Farren liked to think she’d been getting to know him.

They knew each other’s favorite movie and least favorite food. Farren was astonished to find whenever he didn’t take the Metro, Sebastian loved playing music in his car at an almost-excruciating volume as he scream-sang his frustrations out in traffic. And she’d been right; his voice was lovely, when it wasn’t pitched as if he had to project to the back of a packed auditorium.

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