Heartbreaker: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance

by Allie Hayden

  “Thank you for ordering,” I said, gesturing to the plate.

  Sebastian smiled and nodded. “Of course. I thought you might be hungry, seeing as you slept past breakfast.”

  “Haha, oops,” I said, embarrassed. I wasn’t sure how else to respond, admitting that I was not a morning person. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “No need to apologize, Lily. It was worth it to see you looking like this. Truly.”

  I blushed and took a sip of my drink to conceal myself. Tea. It was of a delicate nature, light, with an undertone of fruit.

  “So,” I started, not wanting to avoid the inevitable any longer, “we should probably talk then.”

  “Let us enjoy our food a little longer first; there is no rush,” he responded, taking a bite of his strawberry-filled crepe.

  “I suppose,” I said, somber.

  I cut the corner of my crepe and gasped at the taste when it entered my mouth. I wanted to be difficult, but I couldn’t help but relax when the explosion of flavor filled my mouth. The crepe was soft, but just crispy enough to provide the right juxtaposition to the juicy strawberries, the taste of which filled my senses.

  “It’s delicious,” I said once I finished chewing. I was ready for another bite.

  “Of course. Do you think I would take you to a second-rate café?”

  I shook my head, “No, I can see now that your taste in food is impeccable.”

  “Did you expect less of your childhood friend?”

  I laughed. “This coming from someone who once ate his bananas with ketchup.”

  “Hey, to be fair, I was five. My palette has evolved since then.”

  “I bet you still eat ketchup with your bananas.”

  “I’ve grown out of my phase of putting anything and everything into my mouth,” he winked at me. “Besides, I leave the mixing of flavors to the experts now.”

  “Oh, really? Like what?”

  “In crepes, for instance.” Sebastian cut another slice of his meal, displaying the banana inside for me to examine. “They’re also quite lovely in bread.”

  “Ah, yes, banana bread, a classic. Let me guess: you eat yours with…”

  Sebastian stared me down. “Don’t you dare.”

  “…ketchup?”

  “Oh, I’m going to get you back for that. You can count on it.”

  “Really? Are you so sure?” I was having fun now.

  I had missed this banter with Sebastian. When he moved away, I was devastated and unsure how to exist in a world without his humor or his teasing, which made everything brighter.

  “Positive. And the benefit of living alone in a large apartment is that no one will interrupt us.”

  I giggled to cover the shiver that ran down my spine; the blood was rushing to my face, and my heart was beating out of my chest. I didn’t know whether I should be frightened, aroused—or both. I knew I would always be safe with Sebastian, and knew he looked out for me, but he had a way of exerting his power that most people would find intimidating. Although I never felt he was intimidating, I knew he meant well, and I knew I had a very special place in his heart, that he would never do anything to hurt me. When we were younger, I found that habit of his to be annoying, but now…

  I didn’t want to complete the thought.

  When we both stopped laughing, Sebastian’s face became serious once more.

  “Lillian, I have to ask, do you want to try having a relationship with me again?”

  I considered the question for a moment, and my immediate instinct was to say yes: to kiss him and jump in headfirst. But I didn’t know what he meant by ‘relationship,’ how he felt for me now, after all this time, and what kinds of things our ‘relationship’ would entail.

  “I…want to know what you feel for me first,” I said.

  Sebastian sighed, and the expression on his face was a mixture of something I couldn’t quite identify.

  “Lillian, I’m not going to lie. The thing I feel for you now is not that whirlwind romance of the summer long past. I’m not in love with you anymore, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be again, or don’t want to be again. I think of you all the time, but it is not for the pure reasons you might wish. I want to be with you, Lillian, physically. I want to try to continue where we left off that summer, and I want to see if we might rekindle some of those feelings.”

  I nodded. It wasn’t ideally what I wanted. But I was thankful that Sebastian was upfront and honest with me; it was more than I could’ve hoped for. I contemplated his words for a bit.

  “I can understand that,” I said, finally.

  “I have to ask then, what are your feelings for me?”

  “At this point…I don’t know. I’m confused; you confuse me. I like you, and I want to see if we can get back what we missed, but as you said, my feelings are not the same anymore.”

  “We can agree on that then. Feelings are things that don’t stand the test of time when their source is far away and there is no hope to sustain them. But beauty, beauty ages like fine wine,” he said. His expression became sultry then. His eyes lazily pursued my body but rested upon my face, my eyes, then my lips. “And desire, well, desire seems to age just the same.”

  I could hear the latent lust beneath the words, and it was a wonder to hear that Sebastian wasn’t standing up now to announce that we were heading to a more secluded spot, or even taking me under the table right then and there.

  But no, those were Ash things to do. Ash, who had gently coaxed me to pleasure underneath the sky beside the river, not caring about who was watching or what people might think. Sebastian was all about appearances; he might tease me all he wished, but he wasn’t going to create a spectacle in public. Not even a small one. He valued his image too much. He had to; he was a professional in his field. He needed to maintain credibility.

  “Are you up to try then, Lillian, to give those idealistic teenagers a second chance?”

  I laughed, remembering how we had been back then, so oblivious to the world and its working around us.

  “I don’t know if we can quite go back to that.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then yes; why not?”

  Sebastian smiled with pleasure and called for the check as I finished up my very delicious crepe.

  “Well, what about it?” he asked after he paid.

  “What about what?” I replied around a mouthful of sweet strawberries. I was trying to finish my breakfast before Sebastian insisted that it was time to leave.

  “Shall we head back to my apartment?”

  There was so much implied in that question, but I didn’t hesitate; I knew what I wanted.

  “Yes, let’s.”

  13. (Lillian)

  I didn’t know what I was expecting when Sebastian closed the apartment door behind us, and we were suddenly alone, just the two of us in his living room. I knew it wasn’t heading to the kitchen to pour us both some cups of juice. When he noticed me standing awkwardly in the doorway with my bag dropped beside me, my shoes off, looking a bit uncertain, he laughed.

  “Did you really think we were going to pick up right where we left off the other night as soon as I had you alone?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh no, my dear Lily; the best things require buildup. You’re going to be dripping before I even touch you: trust me.”

  I could already feel the pressure building up inside me at those words, and I squirmed in place.

  “Yes, exactly like that. Crave me. I want you to beg.”

  “Who says I’m going to do that?”

  “Oh, we’ll see. This is a dangerous game to be playing with me, Lily. I always win. Would you like some water?”

  He offered me one of the glasses from his cupboard, and I walked over to the kitchen to take it from him. He was careful to hand it to me so that our fingers didn’t even so much as brush. There was no way he was going to be able to make me wet like that. Frustrated, yes. Dripping? Please.

  “Shall we s
it on the couch?”

  He guided me towards the white leather sofa in the living room. He sat himself so that he looked like an emperor surveying his conquest: me. Feeling a bit defiant myself, I went to sit across from him instead of next to him. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, amused.

  “Careful not to get any on the leather,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t talking about the water. “I just had it redone recently, and it would be a shame if something were to ruin it.”

  There was a heat rising in my stomach, and I shift a bit uncomfortably to try to find a position that eased the ache before it could grow anymore. Sebastian took a long sip from his glass then, watching me as he did. He licked his lips as his gaze slid down and back up again.

  I lifted my own glass in an effort to ease the tension between us. I was thinking to myself that I wished Sebastian’s lips might be on mine rather than that little glass of his. That I might be able to taste the lingering fresh cool mint of his early morning routine.

  “Shall I play you something on the piano, Lily?” Sebastian asked after I set down my glass.

  He was still eyeing me, deciding what the best strategy would be at this moment.

  “That would be lovely.”

  I was thinking of another time now. When the two of us had been teenagers and Sebastian always played the piano for me. And one time, when we had his place to ourselves, we explored each other on his family’s piano. He had played a little melody then, and I remember him touching me with one hand while his other masterfully played the notes of a beautiful little tune, which I could not remember.

  He was sitting down at the piano bench now, his fingers long as they hovered over the ivory keys. The first note was played, and then he worked up a melody, slow and longing. There was something about the combination of the notes that made me feel sad, nostalgic. They felt familiar, even though I never heard this song before.

  I had expected him to play one of those songs he loved playing for me as a teenager, but this was something new, something different. And somehow, it felt more special. The song sounded like it was meant just for me, like I was the only one in the world who’d ever heard these notes, in this particular order.

  It made me shiver in delight and anticipation as his fingers continued to work up to another set of tones, creating this beautiful world around us with sound.

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

  I said it under my breath only to myself, but maybe he understood the way my lips moved. Maybe he understood the way my mind worked because he nodded in appreciation and pleasure. When he finished, he turned to look at me.

  “Won’t you come sit and play something for me?”

  I hesitated. Yes, it was true that I’d played piano before. Especially when the two of us were together, I always played a little bit. I had thought…we both thought that I was going to play piano for the rest of my life. I wanted nothing more than to play the piano in a large concert hall with an orchestra, or even by myself in a coffee shop, no matter how small. It didn’t matter. Just as long as I could play.

  Back in those days, I was always playing some new song, some melody stuck in my head and drifting off my fingertips like dandelion seeds. Sebastian used to joke that I was in communication with the fae, that they whispered in my ear as I played.

  But things were different after he left. And I still didn’t want to think about it. Sometimes my hands would shake when I let myself go back there. I had only taken up photography seriously after I stopped playing the piano.

  With my hands trembling, I sat down next to him, hitting a note experimentally. It had been so long since I even laid hands on a piano. But despite everything, my muscle memory remained, and I moved. With Sebastian beside me, I began to play a song I hadn’t so much as hummed in a very long time. I tripped up a few times, especially in the beginning, and my hands weren’t as sure as they had once been, but the emotion was still there. Sebastian recognized the song. He slid closer to me, still refraining from touching; his hand hovered above my lower back, tantalizing in its closeness.

  “You still play beautifully,” he breathed in my ear as my hands stilled.

  His breath was hot, and his words were full of desire.

  “You’ve always inspired me,” I said.

  “Yes, and I hope I can continue to.”

  He slid the cover over the keys with one hand, then guided me without ever making contact. My back was against the piano, and the bench was off to the side now. He stood in front of me with his hands on either side of my waist, caging me in, making it so that he was the only person in view.

  I squirmed as he continued to examine me, looking every bit the emperor, the successful lawyer, the New Yorker with an expensive apartment. He brought his hand up, almost up to my face, but stopped before his skin made contact with mine. I could feel that empty space. I could sense the tension within it in every fiber of my being. It was like trying to keep magnets apart, not touching him, not leaning into him.

  “Not yet, Lily,” he said, reading the desire in my eyes. “I want you to understand my power first.” His hand moved, tracing the shape of my jawline.

  It ran along the curve of my neck and down my body, then back to resting itself on the piano. He moved his face next, coming close to my lips and blowing cool air onto them. I shivered in pleasure at the anticipation, feeling the heat building within me.

  He moved to tease my ear next, whispering, “You don’t even know the things I want to do with you,” then he blew cold trails along my neck.

  This was killing me, this wait, this refusal to make contact. Oh, I understood very well the power he had over me now. I was wet without a single touch; there was already a heat building up inside. I shivered to think of what he might be able to do with his hands, with his mouth, with all of him.

  “Touch me,” I whispered, not able to take it any longer. “Stop playing with me.”

  “Are you wet yet?”

  I nodded. “You’ve teased enough. Now kiss me!”

  He smiled at me lazily, with a self-satisfied grin. “Of course.”

  He leaned forward, drawing out that moment before our lips made contact, and then he was against me, and it was like no kiss I ever had before. He still tasted of powdered sugar, and he was so soft, and the wait was so worth it. One of his hands crept up under the skirt of my dress as we continued the kiss. He teased my lips with his tongue, then his teeth, and he acquainted himself with where my arousal had soaked through the lace underwear.

  He made a sound of satisfaction as his fingers encountered me, and the pressure—especially after last night—did more than anyone ever had. I felt the heat spike up again, and I gasped into his mouth as he began to massage me gently, rubbing the soaked panties against my sensitive bits. He was slow, methodical, bringing me to pleasure with the combination of kisses and light massage. His other hand was on my back, pulling me closer, and making me feel as if I were the only one in the world.

  “You have no idea how sexy you are,” he breathed as he broke away; his mouth traced a path along my jawline, tugging at the sensitive skin near my ear. “No clue.”

  I brought my hands up to run through his hair, feeling the soft locks fall away from the position they had been slicked into. He hummed his approval against my neck, then stepped back.

  “Will you let me help you take off that dress? It’s so lovely on you, but if my instincts are right, whatever is beneath it will look even better.”

  “Of course,” I replied, reaching around behind me to start unfastening the clasps, but Sebastian stopped my gesture with a shake of his head.

  “No, let me do it. It would be an honor.”

  I let my hands fall back down to my sides, stepping away from the piano so that he might undress me. His fingers ran up and down my back first, gentle, teasing, and then, one by one, undid the clasps that held the dress together in the back. With knowing hands, he slipped the dress up and over my head and my arms. The dressed pooled into a puddle on th
e piano bench. He sighed as he saw the white lace of my lingerie; he ran his fingertips along my spine, and the hem of my bra; he followed the waistline of my panties. He was teasing me, never going a step further.

  “Turn around for me,” he breathed low in my ear again.

  I did. I turned to face him and saw that desire written all over his face. I could tell by the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes that he wanted me, needed me. I cupped his cheeks and kept my eye contact on him as I rose onto my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips.

  He sighed, seeming to melt into me like waves washing away all other earthly tethers.

  “You’re so goddamned hot,” he whispered as he bit my bottom lip, punctuating the sentence. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I knew what it was to want someone. I’ve wanted to take you since you walked into that apartment and I saw I had another chance.”

  I made a sound of pleasure as his hands trailed down my sides to cup my hips and then gently ease aside my panties for better access. His index finger stroked me, finding that spot of pleasure and teasing it. I gasped, and he kissed me, more fervently this time, and the deep ache built up even more. Then he pulled away, watching me lazily as he loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  He was the perfect image of undone sexy, an underwear-ad-worthy picture. As he took off the pristine button-up, I could see that the attractiveness didn’t stop at his face. He had abs worthy of a Greek god. He unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the belt loops, letting it slither to the floor like a snake, then undid the top button of his dress pants.

  I could see the trail of hair leading down from his chest, disappearing beneath the exposed band of a set of boxers. I wanted him. I craved him at that moment with every fiber of my being. I stepped closer and threaded my fingers through the loops of his pants and pulled him close against me. I shivered as our skins touched.

  “Eager, aren’t we?”

  I responded by kissing him and trailing away from his lips and claiming his neck. We weren’t teenagers anymore, so I didn’t leave marks as I once did, but I still kissed him with passion and desire. I would take the skin between my teeth, making sure to be gentle, but enjoying the sounds of him gasping in pleasure when I put more passion into it. His hands ran up and down my back, unclasping the hooks of my bra, tracing patterns along my shoulder blades.