Chapter 16

Stephanie

I ignore him and go back to my coffee and muffin. When I look up again, he’s grimacing like he’s in pain. “Sebastian?” He rolls his neck and smiles at me, but it looks a little forced. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good, Doll.” He takes another drink of his coffee before he opens a sandwich and eats it in a few bites. “So how come you never told me you write books?”

I shrug. “It never came up.”

“Exactly. Why did it never come up?”

I give a dry laugh. “It’s not like we know everything about each other, Sebastian.”

He frowns. “But this is like a big deal; I feel like I should have known.”

I shrug. “Hey Sebastian, I write books as well as teach middle school history.”

“What kind of books do you write?”

I blink. “You just ordered all of my books. You don’t even know what kind of books they are?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t read the book descriptions; I just added them to my cart.”

I shake my head. “I can’t even with you.”

He cocks his head to the side. “But that’s like in a good way, right?”

I can’t help the smile creeping across my face. “I write history adventure with a little bit of romance thrown in.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Ooo, I like romance.”

“Sure you do.” I shake my head.

“What? I do.”

“Have you ever read a romance book?” I question.

“Not yet,” he says with a grin. His eyes light up. “I should make all the guys read it.”

I groan. “Please no.”

“Why not?”

“I do not want a bunch of hockey players reading my romances.”

“We could start a book club.”

I nearly laugh out loud. “A book club? Yeah, because I can so see Aiden sitting in a book club talking about a romance book.”

“Yeah, he probably wouldn’t do it; neither would Gunner.” His eyes light up. “But it would be fun to make them sit through one. Aiden would do it if I told him Brielle really wanted him to.”

“I think you’re putting way too much faith in his relationship with Brielle,” I tell him.

“Nah. That guy would die for her.”

“Yeah, but would he read a romance book for her?” I argue.

Sebastian grins. “It would be a test.” I shake my head. “So what’s with you and your parents?” he asks suddenly.

I sit back in my chair and try not to react to his words, “What do you mean?”

He’s suddenly serious. “You know what I mean,” he says softly.

“I really don’t.”

He studies my face a moment. “Why don’t your parents support what you do? And why aren’t you all closer?”

Anger rises swiftly. “Not all families are as lovey-dovey as yours, Sebastian.” I regret the words immediately. “I’m sorry; that was uncalled for. Your family is amazing,” I say quietly. “I hope you know that.” I continue before he can say anything. “My parents love me; they just don’t show it demonstratively like yours do.”

“And their lack of support for your careers?” he asks softly. I don’t look at him. I feel humiliated that he witnessed all that. I’ve dealt with it all my life. I know my parents love me; they show that love by pushing me to be better, to be the best I can be. They don’t ever want me to settle because they haven’t. They’re both at the height of their careers right now, a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom.

“They never wanted me to be a teacher,” I finally say without looking at him. It feels oddly relieving to say those words out loud. I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud before. I’ve never even told Brielle, though she knows my parents aren’t fond of what I do for a living.

“Why not?” he asks. There’s no judgment in his voice, only curiosity.

I shrug. “Lack of pay, lack of prestige, not following in their footsteps...you name it.”

“And the books,” he pushes.

“Oh they definitely don’t like that,” I say with a laugh. “My mother calls it a waste of time and brain power,” I say dryly. I shrug. “But I love it, and it helps pay the bills.”

He frowns. “Do you make that little money teaching?”

“Well, I didn’t go into it for the money, that’s for sure.”

His frown tightens. “You know if you need money—”

I cut him off. “I do not need your money.”

“Stephanie—”

“I don’t need your money, Sebastian,” I say more forcefully this time. I feel my face begin to heat up. I stand to my feet, more than ready to get going. “Ready to go?” I ask. I only make it a few steps before a hand encloses around my wrist, stopping me.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I wasn’t trying to belittle you or make you feel bad. You have my utmost respect, Stephanie. A teacher and an author? I think that’s amazing.” I finally look down and meet his eyes. “You should hold your head high.” His words connect with me at a soul level. I don’t feel capable of talking, so I nod at him. He releases my arm a moment later, and I walk over to the trash. I feel like I walk a little taller as I head over to the exit. When I turn back, Sebastian strides towards me, all confidence and swagger. A smile slips across my face before I can stop it. He stops at the door. “What’s that smile for?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t say anything else as we walk out to the car. He holds my door for me before walking around to the other side. I wait until he starts the car to talk.

“Sebastian.” He looks over at me. “Thank you.”

He gives me a smile that looks regretful. “You don’t need to thank me for telling you the truth, Doll.”

“Well, thank you anyway.”

We drive back to my parents’ house mostly in silence. “I need to get going pretty soon after we get back, so I can get back in time for practice. Coach is already mad at me for my performance last night. I don’t want to add a missed practice; he’ll bench me for sure.”

“No, go as soon as you need to.” He rolls his neck a little, and I watch as he grimaces again.

“Are you okay? You keep having a look of pain on your face.”

“You noticed that?” he asks in surprise.

“Did you get hurt in the game last night?”

“I’m fine. I’ve just had a headache off and on today.”

“Is it off or on right now?” I ask.

He glances over at me. “It’s on,” he says with a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“Did you take anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

I stare at him. “You’re in pain, and you have a headache. But you don’t want to take anything? You would just rather suffer in pain?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” he mutters.

I dig around in my purse and find a bottle of pain reliever. I pour two into my hand and grab a small water bottle out of my purse and hand it to him. He looks at my purse and then at me. “What else do you have in that bag?”

“Take your medicine.” He grins and swallows them down. “Do you need me to drive?” I ask him.

“No, I’m good.”

We drive back to my parents’ house. After he puts the car in park, he turns to me. “Are you sure you want to go back in there?”

I smirk. “It’s my parents’ house.”

“Yeah...”

“Sebastian Hart, are you scared of my parents?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Terrified actually.”

I laugh. “You don’t have to come in; you can just head back.”

“When are you making the trip back?” he asks.

“I was going to wait until the weekend, but I don’t think I can make it that long. Are you leaving now? Maybe I’ll just follow you.”

He glances at the clock. “Yeah, I’d better so I’m not late.”

“I still can’t believe you drove all the way down here this morning; you’re crazy.”

“Never said I wasn’t. I’ll come say goodbye to your parents.” I notice his frown as he walks toward the door.

“That headache’s really getting you, isn’t it?” I ask with concern.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

We head inside, and I make quick work of packing my bag. I pop my head inside my parents’ dual office. “I’m going to head back.”

My mother lifts her head. “So soon?”

“Yeah. I need to get back.” I don’t say any more than that; I’m hoping I have a job to go back to.

“You know you’re welcome here anytime,” my father says.

“I know. Thank you.”

“See you soon,” my mother calls out as I walk toward the door. I pause a moment and look back. They’re both already engrossed in their computers. I don’t let it bother me; I know it’s not personal. They’re incredibly busy.

When I get out to the living room, Sebastian is sitting on the couch with his head back and his eyes closed. I pause and watch him for a moment. I can tell his headache is really bothering him. As a person who deals with chronic headaches, I can see the signs. I’m concerned for him, and there’s no way I’m letting him drive. I walk over and kneel in front of him and put my hand on his leg. “Hey.” He opens his eyes and looks at me. “I don’t think you should drive. We can drive together. I’ll leave my car here, and I”ll figure out what to do with it later.”

He blinks, looking like he’s trying to clear the fog. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes.” The fact that he’s not fighting me tells me his head is worse than he’s letting on.

“Come on. Let’s get you out to the car.” He stands to his feet. I briefly wonder if I should offer to help him, but he walks over to the door just fine. We head out to the driveway, and he hands me the keys to his Corvette. I settle in behind the wheel a moment later. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay for practice?” I ask.

“Oh yeah.” He doesn’t say anything more than that, and I begin the drive home. It’s a long, silent three-hour trip. I head straight to the facility because we got stuck in construction traffic, and it delayed us by a good bit. Sebastian hasn’t said a word the entire time, and I keep glancing over at him to make sure he’s okay.

When we get to the facility, security waves us through. They must recognize Sebastian’s car. I drive to the player and staff parking lot and park. “We’re here,” I say softly. When he doesn’t move, I shake his leg. “Sebastian, we’re here.” He opens his eyes, blinking slowly. He looks around like he’s in a daze, and I get a bad feeling. “Sebastian, are you okay?”

“I’m fiiiine.” His words are slow and drawn out like he’s drunk.

I pull out my phone and call Aiden’s number. When he doesn’t answer, I turn to Sebastian. “I’m going to be right back. Stay right here.” I don’t give him time to argue. I climb out of the car and jog into the practice facility and make my way down to the rink where the guys are already warming up. “Aiden,” I call out when I get close. He turns in surprise and skates over to me.

“Is Brielle okay?” he asks quickly as he yanks his helmet off his head.

I instantly feel terrible. “Yes. She’s fine.” I should have thought about how he would respond to seeing me here. With Brielle’s Type 1 diabetes, he worries about her often. “Sebastian’s in the car; I think something’s wrong with him. He’s had a really bad headache and now his speech is slurred.”

Aiden curses low under his breath. “Let me get the medical staff; I’ll be right there. Where is he now?”

“In the player’s parking lot.”

“Go stay with him; I’ll be right there. Don’t let him sleep.”

With those ominous words, I run back through the building, hoping I didn’t mess up by leaving him by himself.