Page 64 of The Flirty Forward

He stops right in front of me. When I don’t look up at him, he puts a thumb under my chin and lifts it gently until I meet his eyes. His eyes are filled with pain. “I am so sorry, Do—” He catches himself and grimaces. “I get now why you don’t want to be called that.” He makes sure my eyes are meeting his. “I know there are no words to make this right, but I want to at least try.It wasn’t you; it was all me.” I start to pull away, but he stops me. “Hear me out, please.” I still myself. He seems lost for words for a moment, something I’ve never seen on the guy. “That’s my phrase.” He grimaces. “I use it all the time to keep the women away, and before you say anything I know what that sounds like. As much as it pains me to say this, I don’t remember that encounter. I don’t remember you before that day at school with my niece.” His words hurt. “But it wasn’t you. Believe me, if I had allowed myself to take the time to look at you, to really look at you, it would have been a different story.” His words settle something deep inside me, but I stay quiet. “I’m truly sorry that I treated you that way. But I want you to know for certain; let there be no doubt in your mind that you are every bit my type.” He steps closer, and I have no room to retreat. “You are the embodiment of my type.” He blows out a breath, and I feel it on my face. “I leave tomorrow for a series of away games, but can I call you?”

I meet his eyes and see the sincerity there; I also see a little bit of vulnerability. It softens something inside me. I stare at him a moment, debating. I know if I give him the okay, it’s going to shift something in our relationship. I find myself nodding anyway; I want to give this a try. It scares me, terrifies me actually. But I want to see if there’s something there. I have this gut feeling that if I don’t, I may regret it for the rest of my life. A smile lights his face, and I suck in a breath. He is just so gorgeous. “Thank you,” he breathes out. He steps away and heads out the door.

Before he gets too far, I stop him. “Sebastian.” He spins around. “I forgive you for what happened. But if you ever treat me that way again—”

“I won’t,” he cuts me off. “Thank you.”

“Be safe at your game. And for Pete’s sake, don’t take any more hits to the head.”

He grins. “Yes, Ma’am.” He jogs down the steps and over to his car. He gives me a wave before pulling out.

I watch him go, wondering if I made the right decision. When I step back inside my house, it feels so empty and quiet. It’s never bothered me before. But after having Sebastian in my space for the last few days, I don’t know...he made it feel warm and not quite so lonely. I shake off my negative feelings and make another coffee before settling in to write. I'm hoping to get a few chapters knocked out before tomorrow. My phone buzzes before I’ve even started writing. I look at it and then answer it. “I don’t know if you know this or not, but you haven’t left for your away games yet.”

He chuckles. “I know. I just wanted to make sure things were okay between us.”

I settle against my pillows with my laptop on my lap. “We’re good, Sebastian. You apologized.”

“Yeah, but I still feel terrible.”

“Good. Let it burn for a little while,” I tell him, fighting a smile.

He laughs. “I deserve that. What’s your plan for the rest of the day?”

“I need to get several chapters written; I’m behind on my book.”

“That reminds me. I should get my books today; I’m so excited. When I get back into town, I’ll have you sign them.” I just shake my head. “Well, I won’t keep you. I know you want to get to your writing. Oh, I did have one more question.”

This guy and his questions. “Yes?”

“I need to come up with a new nickname for you since I can’t call youthe name which shall not be named.I’ve been trying out a few and want to know what you think.”

“Okay,” I say warily. I know he’s not going to stop until he’s done.

“Buttercup.”

“No.” The rejection is instant; I don’t even have to think about it.

“Sweet cakes.”

“No.”

“Sugar Plum.”

“No.”

“Honey Buns.”

“No.”

“Sweetums.”

“No.”

“Pumpkin.”

“Goodbye, Sebastian. I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait, what about Angel Face?”

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