Page 37 of Hiss and Tell
“Mr. Sebastian?” he murmurs against Sebastian’s shoulder. “Are you going to keep being our Sebastian now that you won?”
The question catches me off guard with its underlying anxiety. Despite all the security we’ve built, Milo still carries the fear that good things might disappear.
“Always,” Sebastian says without hesitation. “Winning the funding just means I can keep doing the job I love at the place where I met you and your mama. It doesn’t change anything about us.”
“Good,” Milo says, finally allowing his eyes to close. “I like us.”
“I like us, too,” Sebastian whispers.
After I tuck Milo into bed—a process that includes three stories, two glasses of water, and extensive negotiation about leaving his door open—I return to the living room to find Sebastian cleaning up blocks with unusual focus.
“You okay?” I ask, settling beside him on the floor.
“Better than okay. Today feels like I reached a goal I didn’t even know I was aiming for.” He pauses, holding a wooden block shaped like a tower. “Three years ago, I thought success meant keeping my head down, doing my job competently, and hoping nobody complained about my appearance or abilities.”
“And now?”
“Now I realize I was aiming for survival instead of actually living.” He looks at me directly, his sanctuary effect creating an intimate calm around us. “You and Milo changed what success looks like. What happiness looks like. What home feels like.”
The weight of his words settles between us, charged with everything we haven’t quite defined yet. We’re definitely not fake dating anymore, haven’t been since the walk in the park, truth be told. But we also haven’t named what we’re becoming.
“Sebastian—”
“I know this is moving fast,” he says softly. “I know you have every reason to be cautious about relationships, about letting someone new into Milo’s life. But I need you to know that today’s victory wouldn’t have felt complete without you both here to share it.”
His snakes are moving in rapid patterns, and I realize he’s nervous. This confident, magical man who just swayed an entire city council, is nervous about where our relationship stands.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him, reaching for his hand. “And neither is Milo. We’re invested in this—in you, in us, in whatever this is becoming.”
His smile is soft and relieved and tinged with something deeper that makes my pulse quicken.
“Whatever this is becoming,” he repeats thoughtfully. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good,” I say, leaning closer. “Because I think it’s becoming something pretty wonderful.”
When he kisses me, slow and sweet and full of promise, his sanctuary effect wraps around us like a blessing. This is what happiness feels like, I realize. Not the desperate, clinging hope I’ve carried for so long, but something steady and sure and built on a foundation of affection and trust.
But as the kiss deepens, as his hands slide into my hair and I press closer against his chest, something shifts. The heat between us builds quickly—too quickly. His mouth moves to my throat, and I can feel his heartbeat racing against mine. When his hands find my waist, claiming it completely, his erection presses against me. Desire floods through me so intensely it’s almost frightening.
“Aspen,” he murmurs against my skin, and the rough desire in his voice makes me arch against him.
That’s when reality crashes back. The terror about what comes next. What I’ll have to tell him. What this could lead to.
I pull back suddenly, my hands on his chest. “We should… Milo might wake up.”
Sebastian’s eyes are dark with desire, but he immediately steps back. “Of course. You’re right.”
The excuse sounds weak even to my ears, but he doesn’t question it. Still, I catch the flicker of confusion in his expression—the sudden shift from heated to distant.
We stand there for a moment in awkward silence, both breathing harder than we should be. The space between us feels charged with unfinished desire and unspoken questions.
“I should probably go,” he says finally, his voice still rough around the edges.
“Yeah,” I whisper, not quite meeting his eyes. “Early day tomorrow.”
He nods, but I can feel him studying my face, trying to understand what just shifted between us. When he finally reaches for his jacket, his movements are careful, controlled—like he’s giving me space to change my mind.
But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I find the courage to tell him everything.
