13
Summer
I felt so stupid. It would have been one thing for Jerry to drive past and see me so upset, but no, it had to be Sebastian. And not just him, but Tom too. If there was a Summer-sized rock that I could crawl under and die, someone needed to point it out to me. I was mortified. There I was, walking in the snow, crying as though someone had killed my cat, when really, I just didn't want to be alone, and was tired of being left that way.
Jerry's decision shouldn't have bothered me. Had he told me even a week prior, it probably wouldn't have. I wasn't opposed to them taking a trip back to Florida to see Meredith's family. In fact, I'd be grateful to spend one Thanksgiving out from under Meredith's cold, judgmental stare. So, what in the world was wrong with me that it would cause me to break down like I did? Surely not the snide little comment he'd thrown in. Then again, Mom had always said, "bind your tongue, because sticks and stones will break your bones, but words hurt most of all..."
No, he hadn't meant it to be an insult. Jerry was stubborn, but he wasn't cruel. Not like that. I chalked up my overactive emotions to the fact that I'd run into Louis the day before. Either that, or I was getting ready to start my period. Regardless of the cause though, I knew I'd put my brother in an awkward situation, and looking back, that hadn't been my intention. Once things settled, I'd have to apologize. We both would.
For the time being, though, I let the tears continue to fall, unable to hold them back for reasons that were unknown and likely ridiculous. Sebastian didn't say a word. He didn't pry about what happened, didn't ask me every few seconds if I was okay, like I would have if it'd been him. He just sat with his arm around me, his hand clutched against my shoulder as I soaked up his warmth, trying to ward off my shivering. No doubt, when we got back to his place, he'd want me to open up, but for the moment, he was doing exactly what I needed him to: nothing.
I sighed heavily as Tom rounded onto Sebastian's street, and I caught his eyes flit to me again in the rearview mirror. He looked concerned, but, like Sebastian, he didn't pester me, which I appreciated. The fact that he was a Pastor made me unfairly biased toward him, but I was slowly realizing that Tom was different, and I could tell he was a good man. One who obviously cared a great deal for Sebastian, and that was good enough for me.
When we pulled into the driveway, Tom turned around in his seat to look at us, his eyes passing between the two of us before lingering on Sebastian. "Need me to come in with you?"
Sebastian removed his arm from my shoulders, and I felt the absence immediately as he shook his head. "No. Thanks for everything, Tom."
He nodded, but didn't remove his eyes from Sebastian. Looking up at him, I saw worry in their depths, not for me, but for him.
"Are you gonna be okay?" He asked, and I didn't miss the warning stare that Sebastian gave him.
"I'm fine." He opened the door and started climbing out, extended a hand to me.
"Call me if you need anything." Tom hollered over his shoulder once I was out.
Sebastian nodded, then led me up the driveway toward his front door. A minute later, we were inside. Unlike last time, when I'd been so focused on his being sick, I took the opportunity to look around his house. It wasn't huge; a handful of square feet smaller than mine, maybe. The front door opened into the living room. A scuffed, brown leather couch occupied most of the right wall beneath the window. A matching recliner sat diagonal on the wall across from me, beside which was a four-legged wooden table riddled with drink rings.
A wood and glass coffee table was in the center of the room, before a shallow fireplace adjacent to the front door. A flat screen was mounted above it. To the left, was the kitchen, separated from the living room by a bar counter with three mismatched stools. A bible lay open in front of one of them, a collection of highlighters scattered on the counter next to it.
Sebastian shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hooks to the left of the door, then offered to take mine as well. I shivered once I handed it over, and wrapped my arms around myself as goosebumps rose beneath my wet clothes.
"Um, let me get you some warm clothes. You want to take a shower or something?" He offered, seeming suddenly awkward.
I shook my head, and waited while he untied his snow boots and stepped out of them, bending low to pry the right one off his prosthetic. After, he started through the living room, and I followed him down the hall to the left. On the right, I could see an office through the open door, his laptop still open on the large desk before the window. I couldn't help the giddy excitement I felt at seeing where Bass Crawford wrote all of his books. He didn't stop, though. Passing the bathroom on the left, we entered his bedroom at the very end of the hall.
It was a room I remembered well, and blushed at the memory of rummaging through the drawers of his dresser. Across from the door was a queen-sized bed that I was surprised to see was made up and presentable. Mismatched night tables were on either side, with mismatched lamps atop each. Across from the bed was the dresser, standing six drawers tall, a collection of books and computer printouts resembling draft copies of his books littering the top. A smaller version of the living room TV was mounted above it.
To the right of the dresser was a smaller desk with a four-legged chair before it. A giant book of some sort was open atop it, and I crossed to it as Sebastian began rummaging through the dresser drawers.
"What is this?" I asked, and he paused his rummage to glance at me as I fingered the book. "It's huge."
"It's a concordance." He answered, and went back to rummaging.
"What's a concordance?"
Without looking up at me, he said, "It's an index of keywords in the bible."
"Which... does what?"
Pausing with his hands still in the middle drawer, he looked at me. "It's like... if you want to read more about miracles in the bible, say... healing." I nodded. "You look up the word 'healing', and it'll give you a list of references where the word is mentioned in the bible."
Glancing at the giant tome again, I frowned. "The internet serves the same purpose, and would be significantly faster."
He shrugged and went back to rummaging. "Yes, but the internet isn't always accurate. It's a tool simply devised by man."
"The bible is too."
He let out a long breath. "No, no it's not, but that will have to be a discussion for another time."
I pursed my lips as he opened another drawer before making a sound of relief, as though he'd found whatever he was looking for. Turning, he held out a pair of gray sweatpants and long-sleeved black sweatshirt.
"These might be a little big, but I know for a fact that my jeans wouldn't work for you."
Blushing just a little, I took them. "Thanks."
"Okay, then. I'll uh... I'm gonna go wait out there."
He stepped past me into the hallway and closed the door behind him. The moment he was gone, I sat on the edge of his bed and let out a long breath. I could tell I'd offended him with my beliefs about the Bible, which, like many things that day, hadn't been my intention. I was afraid that if I upset him enough, he'd no longer want to spend time with me, and I swallowed hard against the fear that rose in the back of my throat.
Sighing lightly to calm myself, I stood and shimmied out of my wet clothes. Sebastian's pants and shirt were indeed too big on me, and hung on me like a poncho, but they were warm, soft, and smelled like him. Nuzzling into them, I picked up my shoes from where I'd stepped out of them, and carried my wet clothes out into the living room. Sebastian was standing in the kitchen, his back to me as he stared at the slowly spinning microwave above the stove. The gray t-shirt he wore was loose over his back, his dark jeans tight on a butt that was admittedly fine.
I blushed at my sudden thought and immediately looked away, set my wet clothes on one of the stools, which caught Sebastian's attention. He turned, and leaned on the counter to look me up and down. His lips were inching up into an amused smile, and I crossed my arms as he rounded the counter to stand in front of me.
"Don't laugh. You knew they'd be huge."
"I'm not laughing at you. I think you look adorable." He blinked as he said that, and licked his lips before clearing his throat and turning away. He picked up my clothes from the chair and carried them to a room behind the armchair. A minute later, I heard the dryer running, and he returned.
I smiled at his back as he stared at the microwave again, and pressed a cool hand to the flames I could feel in my cheeks. When the microwave dinged, Sebastian opened it and took down an oversized coffee mug, which he set on the counter to stir before adding a handful of marshmallows. Holding it carefully by the handle, he rounded to me again and set it in front of me.
"Cocoa?"
Smiling, I nodded. "Thanks."
He smiled, then stood rocking on his heels a minute, his hands shoved into his butt pockets. "So... wanna go sit?" He gestured to the couch.
"Sure."
I picked up my cup and followed him the short distance to the living room. I sat down on the far-right side of the couch, nearest the armchair, which he lowered in with a wheezing sigh of leather.
"I appreciate you letting me come over." I said as I put my cup on the coffee table.
He nodded. "Sure thing."
"I mean... I know we weren't supposed to get together until this evening, so I'm sorry if I ruined your entire day."
He looked at me as though I'd slapped him. "Far as I'm concerned, my day has been vastly improved, thank you very much."
Heat crept into my cheeks again, and I sat on my hands as I stared at the nicks and dings in the edges his coffee table. From the corner of my eyes, I could see him watching me, and I licked my lips, not knowing what to say to dispel some of the awkwardness.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered.
I'd known the question would come, but I didn't feel the upset connected to it that I'd expected. Rather, I was grateful that he cared so much; that he wanted to know. Shrugging, I folded my legs beneath me and leaned my elbows on my knees, still staring at the table. I replayed the entire situation with Jerry in my head, but the more I pondered it, the stupider it sounded, and I let out a long sigh as I shook my head.
"It was nothing. Just me overreacting." I said slowly, and he leaned forward to balance his elbows on his knees as well.
"You can still tell me. If you want."
I inhaled deeply and reached forward to pick up my cup, blew softly on the chocolate-scented steam. "It was just a little misunderstanding with my brother."
Sebastian nodded. "What happened?"
Scooting back into the couch, I relayed the events of my morning, minus my stalking of his books. Despite my rationalization of the entire scenario, there were tears in my eyes again by the time I finally finished. Sebastian stood from his chair and rounded the coffee table to sit next to me. He left a bit of distance between us, seemingly not to impose, but close enough to let me know that he was there, and without waiting for an invitation, I sank against him.
His arm wound around my back as I laid my head on his shoulder and draped an arm across him. I had no idea what I was doing or why I was touching him at all with so little time passed between us, but I also knew that his arms were the greatest comfort I'd ever known, and I didn't want to let go. He didn't make me. He held me as though I'd always been there; as though I were supposed to be there, and it meant more to me than he'd never know.
"I'm sorry that happened." He said softly. "Even if his comment was benign, no one should have to feel alone on the holidays."
I shrugged, my eyes staring empty into his kitchen as I nuzzled my head down, listening to his heartbeat beneath my ear. "I don't like turkey anyway."
He chuckled softly, and I closed my eyes as his fingers began idly stroking my hair, making my scalp tingle. "Regardless," He said. "Though he may have had good intentions, it's still not fair to you."
I shrugged again. "It's not that big a deal. I'll heat up a Stouffer's frozen turkey dinner and watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade with Skittles, and everything will be fine."
He shook his head, his fingers still gliding through my hair. "Would you like to come with me?"
His fingers stopped stroking as I leaned away to look at him. His hazel gaze burnished into mine with such sincerity that it touched me all the way to my soul, but I frowned as I stared back.
"Come with you where?"
"On Thanksgiving. I'll be going to my parents' place. My brothers will be there with their families, so there'll be a crap-ton of food. And Tom will be there since he doesn't have family. It turns into one big smorgasbord. You'd enjoy it."
My eyes went wide. "Oh, no. I couldn't barge in on your parents like that. Not as a stranger on Thanksgiving of all days."
He shrugged. "But you're not a stranger to me."
"Yeah, I still kinda am..."
His eyes bored into me for a long time before he blew out a breath. "Well, I won't obligate you. Just know that you're welcome. It'd mean a lot to me to be able to show my family the person that I've become thankful for."
He wasn't looking at me, which made me grateful that he couldn't see the massive heat wave creeping into my face. When his hand lifted to touch my cheek, however, his finger splint cold against my skin, and I met his eyes to see him smiling, I knew I was busted.
"I like the way you blush." He said softly, and I lowered my head as I felt it deepen.
"Why are you so nice to me Sebastian?" I asked slowly. "Why do you care?"
Without missing a beat, he said, "Because I believe you're the one that God made for me, and I refuse to do Him, or myself, the injustice of trying to pretend otherwise."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't, just stared up at him. His left hand raised to touch the blush on my cheeks again, his eyes never wavering from mine. Our faces were so close I could feel his breath fall over me, and I swallowed hard, my tongue reaching out to moisten my lips as he inched a little closer. He was going to kiss me that time. I was sure of it.
My heart beat a wild rhythm in my chest as I angled my head upward, ready, willing, and waiting. When his hand cupped my cheek, mine flew up to cover it, and I smiled when he curled his fingers around mine. His breath was falling so fast over my face, I knew his heart was beating as fast as mine, and I swallowed again as he licked his lips, his teeth catching the corner of his lower lip between them.
"Sebastian..." I breathed, and angled my head a little more.
Then, in a blur of movement, he removed his hand from mine and stood. Stunted and disappointed, I stared agape for a moment, then followed him with my eyes as he rounded the coffee table and moved into the kitchen. He scraped a hand back through his hair before leaning both elbows on the counter, his back to me. With my heart still pounding, I slowly eased off the couch and went to him. He stiffened when I laid a hand on his shoulder, and when I turned him to face me, his eyes looked tortured.
"What's wrong?" I asked, and he inhaled deeply, let it out slow as he shook his head.
"Nothing. I'm sorry."
"It's not nothing, Sebastian." I insisted, and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes at my touch, but didn't let it linger before he stepped away from me. "Talk to me." I encouraged, and followed him as he returned to the living room. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, of course not. It's not your fault."
He lowered into the recliner where I couldn't sit with him, and I frowned as I perched on the edge of the couch to watch him. His elbows were balanced on his knees again, eyes staring a hole in the table.
"Then what?"
He inhaled deeply, slowly shook his head. "It's nothing, Summer, really."
"Why are you afraid to kiss me?" I asked, and his eyes lifted to me.
"I'm not. It's just... too soon. I'm promised to God not to be intimate with anyone until I'm married." He leaned back and ran his hand through his hair again.
Frowning, I stood and moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, set a hand on his knee. I was acutely aware that my fingers were touching his prosthetic and not his real knee, but he didn't say anything about it, so neither did I.
"Well, I doubt a single kiss would break all the rules of Heaven, but I think there's more to it than that." I said, and his eyes lifted to me with a look so deep I could practically feel it.
"I've got baggage too, and I don't want my scars rubbing off on you."
I shrugged. "We've both got baggage, Sebastian. It's what makes us who we are."
He shook his head. "You don't have baggage like I do."
At that, I arched a brow, and with a deep breath, reached out to take his hand. "Let me tell you a story..."