Chapter 23

Stephanie

“You’re wounding me,” he says, putting his hands over his heart.

“You’ll be fine,” I say dryly. It’s quiet for a few moments while we eat. It’s surprisingly...not uncomfortable. “How are you feeling?” I ask after I finish my plate of food. I take a sip of my coffee and wait for his answer.

“So much better. I think I’m finally past the headache.”

I look up. “Are you sure?”

He grins slowly. “You still worried about me?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the p as I stand and take my plate to the sink. “Just wondering when I”m going to get my house back.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

“Well lucky for you then, I’m planning on going back to my place today.” His easy words reassure me that I didn’t hurt his feelings; still, I wish I hadn’t said it that way. I rinse my plate and put it in the dishwasher.

“How are you?” he asks, from right next to me when he moves in to rinse his plate. “Are you okay after you got knocked over last night?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

I turn to walk away, and he’s right there. “You sure?” I nod. He frowns. “I still can’t believe they did that to you.”

“It’s fine.” I wave him off as I head over to the table to finish my coffee.

“It’s definitely not fine.”

I shrug. “It got crazy.”

He shakes his head and slides into his seat. “I have another question for you.”

I take a drink of coffee. Realizing I’m not going to have peace and quiet until he’s gone, I motion him to ask his question. “Why are your parents so awful?”

I nearly spew my coffee across the table. Then I proceed to choke on it for a considerably lengthy time. “Good grief. Warn a girl next time.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin, trying to figure out how in the world to answer that question. “We’ve already had this conversation, and they’re not awful,” I finally settle on. He raises his eyebrows. “What? They”re not.” Then feeling defensive, I blurt out. “Not everybody has a huge family that’s supportive of their dreams, Sebastian.”

His face falls, and he reaches out and takes my hand. I tell myself that he’s surprised me; that’s why I don’t immediately pull away. “I’m sorry for that. My family is incredibly loving and supportive of me. Sometimes too much.” He chuckles and then squeezes my hand. “Everybody deserves that. I’m sorry you don’t have that and that you have to eat horrible, ungodly food when you’re there.” I laugh; I can’t help it. The look on his face. He grins, and I know he did it just to make me laugh. “Can I ask you another question?”

I sit back, pulling my hand from his. “Seems to be the theme of the day, so go for it.”

“Why don’t you like me calling you Doll?”

I startle. “It’s fine,” I say quickly.

“No, it’s not. You asked me not to call you that. Why?”

“It’s not that big a deal, Sebastian. I just don’t like it.”

“It is a big deal, Stephanie. Tell me why; I feel like there’s a story there. Maybe a story of why you hate me so much.”

I glance up quickly. “I don’t hate you...anymore.”

He laughs. “I love it that you’re so honest with me.” He sits up. “Okay. I want to know why, and you’re going to tell me. In fact, I’m not leaving here today until you tell me why you hate or hate-ed me so much.”

I don’t look at him; I don’t want to do this. “It’s in the past, Sebastian. It’s dumb; don’t worry about it.”

“No. I see it on your face from time to time. It”s this look you get in your eyes, like I hurt you. You had that same look in your eyes at the coffee shop by your parents’ house. I hate that. I want to know what I did to cause it.” He’s quiet a moment. “Please tell me; I want to know.”

His face is so earnest. I turn away from him, unsure if I can have this conversation. I don’t want to be this vulnerable with him. Yet, I feel like I owe it to him. He’s asking what he did wrong, so he can fix it. I’m not going to be a jerk and be unforgiving. I cringe because that’s exactly what I’ve been. “Fine,” I say on an exhale. “I went to a workday where you and your teammates were volunteering once. I had invitations to give to you and Rico and Gunner for Aiden and Brielle’s engagement party.” I don’t look at him while I’m talking, but I can feel his gaze on my face. “I looked you guys up ahead of time, so I would know what you looked like. I figured I would find you because—”

“I’m the best-looking,” he interjects.

I can’t help my smile. “No. I’d heard Aiden mention you by name before. Anyway, can I get back to my story?” He waves a finger, motioning me forward. “So, I went to the workday. It took a while, but I finally had an opportunity to approach you. I had the invitation in hand. When I got close, I called your name.” The memory burns within me, and makes my face heat at the shame of it. I take a deep breath. “I didn’t even get out what I wanted to say before you interrupted me. You told me...” my voice trails off.

“What did I tell you?” His voice is gentle, but I can hear the underlying tension in his words.

I face him head-on. “You told me, ‘Hey, Doll, I’m not interested. You’re not my type but thank you’.” I drop my gaze, and absolute silence falls around us. He drops a curse, low and fierce. I don’t know how to respond, and I don’t really want to. So, I stand up and take my cup over to the dishwasher. I walk past him without looking at him. I”m almost clear of the kitchen when he calls my name.

“Stephanie.” I stop, but I don’t turn around. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Sebastian.” I leave the kitchen without another word. I’m feeling too raw, too vulnerable; and I don’t want to be around him right now. I snag my laptop bag and make my way back to my room before settling on my bed and opening the files for the book I’m working on. I put in my headphones and get to work. I need to get lost in my story. I haven’t been writing all that long when the door to my room pushes open. I look up and pause my music.

“Sorry, I knocked but you didn’t hear me.” I make the mistake of meeting his eyes for a moment. He looks absolutely wrecked. “I need to get back to my house. Thank you for everything.” His words are sincere. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me the last few days.”

“It was nothing,” I tell him.

“It was. Thank you.”

I feel weird sitting here on my bed, so I stand to my feet. “I’ll walk you out.”

He makes room for me to walk past him, but he doesn’t say anything. I open the front door and hold it for him. “See ya.”

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 you the 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?”

“Hanging up now.”

“Okay, Boo.”

“Sebastian!” I hang up to the sound of his chuckling.