Page 56 of Playing For Keeps

Sebastian dared to step closer, aching to hold her. The hallway wasn’t romantic in the least. Generic carpeting, harsh overhead lighting. The area smelled slightly dusty, nothing but a long hallway bracketed by closed doors. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He didn’t know what he’d planned, but it was supposed to be better than this.

She deserved better than this. And yet.

This was possibly the only chance he’d get.

“You had a funny way of showing it.” Her voice was clipped, and she swallowed hard after she said it.

“I wanted to show it differently, planned to. Then I fucked it up.”

“How would it have looked then if things had gone ‘according to your plan?’” She rolled her eyes, and yeah… fair enough.

He was a planner. To his own detriment sometimes. It was how he controlled his environment, how he kept himself safe. But it didn’t work, not always, not then. He hadn’t reacted well to her showing up unannounced, to her throwing his whole life off its axis.

Sebastian shrugged the strap of his backpack down, turning it around so he could open it and pull out the pale blue box. Once empty, his bag hit the floor next to his feet with a soft thud.

“In a perfect world, in a scene where I wasn’t a dick, I would have given you this.” Sebastian held the box out to her with both hands, willing her to take it, to hold the manifestation of just how wonderful she was, how fantastic her ideas were.

“Sebastian—” she whispered, hands wrapping around the square.

“I had it made for you. I’d been taking notes every time we worked on it together. The night after you left for home, I took pictures of the mock-up. I found a crafter and ordered it while you were in New Hampshire. I wanted to have something special waiting for you. Even though logically, there’s no way it would have come that quickly. We’ll blame my overzealousness.” Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair, nervous, wanting nothing more than to pace and expend some of this frantic energy building within him all day.

She ripped through the paper, blue shards of wrapping hitting the carpet. Farren clutched the box to her chest, watching him with wide eyes that looked slightly glassy with emotion.

“I wanted to give it to you so many times, but I was so angry. Angry with myself for what I thought was a mistake. But I now know it was just a sign of how little I cared about what happened. If the job really was the be-all and end-all, I would never have taken the risk in the first place. Part of me knew that.” Too bad he’d ignored that part for way too long.

"I got demoted at work because my boss saw me ordering this and thought I wasn't working hard enough. It wasn’t my finest moment, but it was a turning point for me, and I didn’t see it. Not then.”

He’d been so stupid, holding on to a scrap of what he thought his life was supposed to be. Rigid, unrelenting. His goal was hollow. Sebastian didn’t realize it until Farren opened his eyes to other possibilities. Something he’d never allowed himself to think about.

“Then you told me you loved me, and it devastated me. I wanted it so much. Needed it. And it terrified me because it tore through who I thought I was and what I wanted. I felt it too, how deep things were between us that night in Maryland under the full moon… before then, even. But I was a coward.”

She shook her head at him, her frown carving deep furrows into the space between her eyebrows. Her lip trembled, fingers tightening on the stiff cardboard.

“I made a mistake out of stupidity and cowardice, Farren. I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. And this doesn’t make it right. This doesn’t excuse what I said and did. But I thought you should know I believe in you. I’ve always believed in you. The proof is right there in your arms.”

She looked down at the game again, fingertips ghosting over the glossy surface of her name on the front.

“This isn’t me asking for you to take me back. I’m not—The way I… It’s not about us right now. I know I’m pushy and an asshole, but I hope you’ll get over being mad quickly because you have a slot in about fifteen minutes.”

Her mouth dropped open, jaw slack with shock.

“A slot?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Playtesting.”

Her eyes widened, head shaking no in little jerks.

“Sebastian. I can’t. Are you out of your mind?” It was a little panicked, a whispered shout, and he chuckled in response.

“Evidently. But love does that to people. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

The words seemed to permeate through her freak-out.

“Lo—” She started and stopped, the word dying on her lips.

Sebastian stepped toward her. His hands rested on the outside of her arms, the box still clasped to her chest. He rubbed his thumbs against the soft material of her shirt and lifted one hand up to cup her cheek.

“I love you, Farren. I do. It doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t mean anything between us changes. But I do.”

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