Snow Job

by Tara Wyatt

  “Yeah, man. So here’s your chance to get up.”

  “And the more you get up, the better you’re going to get at it,” added Lane

  “Listen, guys, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I just want to be left alone.” He pretended to be fascinated by the basketball game, although he no longer cared. The urge to look up the odds had passed, and he realized he was grateful for that.

  “Nope. Not an option tonight,” said Lane, crossing her arms. “You came here to self-destruct, well guess what? We’re the motherfucking bomb squad.”

  He rolled his eyes and bit back a smile. “Uh huh.” He sipped his Coke and leaned back in his seat. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you can’t fix this for me.”

  “No one’s telling you how to fix anything, dude,” said Bodhi. “It’s okay not to be okay. That’s some gnarly shit that happened. But do you really think pushing Kayla away makes it any better?”

  “She’s not safe if she’s with me.”

  “I thought you said all of your debts were officially paid off?” asked Lane.

  “They are.” They’d found one other loan shark that he’d owed some money to, but that was it. Lucian had turned over so many stones they’d had loan sharks scurrying around like cockroaches.

  “Then is this really about you trying to keep her safe, or about you thinking you’re not good enough for her because of what happened?” asked Lane.

  “Of course it fucking is,” he said, his tone more heated than he’d intended. “How could I possibly be good enough for her after what I put her through? After what I caused? She could’ve fucking died because of me.”

  “But she didn’t,” said Lane calmly. “Thank God. She didn’t. And it’s not like you put her in that situation on purpose.”

  “No, but—”

  Lane cut him off. “You’ve overcome so much, Sebastian. A knee injury, loss of a dream, addiction. That’s a lot of heavy shit. But don’t let that heavy shit drag you down. You rose up. You deserve happiness. And right now, you have a choice. You can choose to believe all of the negative shit swirling through your brain, or you can choose happiness. Because you do deserve it. You do.”

  “Yeah, man,” said Bodhi, nodding. “Brains are fucked. Just cause you think or feel something doesn’t make it true. If you choose your thoughts, choose your beliefs, you get to choose how you feel.”

  “Is that Pema Chodron too?” he asked, sipping his Coke.

  “Nah, I think I saw that on Lifehacker or something.”

  “Everyone has their battles to fight,” said Lane, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Everyone. Yours is harder than most. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have someone fighting with you, at your side. And it doesn’t mean leaving Kayla to fight alone was the right thing to do.”

  Well, fuck. Lane’s point landed and he felt something loosen in his chest. She had a point. Several points. They both did. What was he doing, hanging out in a bar?

  They were right. He had a choice. He’d always had the choice. The only difference between now and a year ago was that he had the strength and self-awareness to make better choices. And he’d been making better ones up until two weeks ago when he’d walked away from the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time. Quite possibly his entire damn life.

  Life was a series of choices, and he hadn’t always made the right ones. Hell, he often hadn’t made the right ones. But Kayla had never been a mistake. The only mistake had been walking away from her.

  “She might not take you back,” said Lane, as though she could read his mind. “But you have to try. You have to make the choice to see yourself as deserving and try. If she forgives you for bailing, then everyone wins. And if she doesn’t, then you’ll learn and move on.” She leaned in close. “And if I find you in a bar with a drink in your hand again, I’ll kick your ass.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Deal.”

  His mind spun as he left the bar, but not the way it had before. He’d come so close to backsliding, even though he hadn’t wanted to. As he ventured out into the night to wait for his Uber back to the resort, it hit him. People cared about him and loved him whether he felt worthy of it or not. His siblings, his friends. Kayla. He didn’t get to tell people how they felt about him—that was up to them. And Lane was right. He had a choice. He could push them away, choose to believe he wasn’t good enough, or he could make a different choice.

  He could choose love.

  21

  Kayla clicked to the next slide, trying to focus on her presentation. Stammler sat at the head of the conference room table, texting on his phone, looking bored. Asshole.

  She cleared her throat and continued. “So, as you can see that while we’re nearly at the close of the first quarter—”

  A woman poked her head into the room, an apologetic smile on her face. “Miss Bristowe? There’s someone here to see you,” said Simone, the woman she’d hired to replace Davis. “He says it’s urgent, but I can just tell him to wait until you’re done.”

  Kayla started to nod, but then she caught sight of Sebastian several feet away, an enormous bouquet of pink, purple, and red tulips in his hands. Her hands went numb and the pen she’d been clutching fell to the floor. It had been three weeks now since he’d walked out on her, leaving her alone in his brother’s apartment after the worst night of her life. After he’d chosen his self-loathing over her. She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips, entirely unsure what to do.

  But then he made the decision for her by stepping into the conference room and smiling at her. The lump of ice in the center of her chest started to melt and she took a cautious step toward him.

  “Hi,” he said, and just the sound of his voice eased some of her uncertainty. “Can we talk?”

  “Kayla, if you walk out that door, you’ll leave me no choice but to fire you.” Stammler’s face was red, his scowl so deep that his jowls shook. She glanced between him and Sebastian and then took another step toward him, holding her hand out to him. His fingers closed around hers and she walked out of the conference room, not caring what Stammler did at this point. This was even better than quitting because now they’d have to pay out her severance package.

  Her fingers twined with his, she led Sebastian to her office—his old office—and closed the door.

  “We may not have long before security comes to walk me out,” she said, leaning against her desk. Her heart was frantic in her chest, drumming so loudly she wondered if he could hear it.

  “Yeah, it’s super fun when they do that,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humor and warmth. He moved toward her and handed her the flowers.

  “Are you here to grovel?” she asked, lifting the bouquet and inhaling deeply, pulling the scent of spring into her lungs. The scent of new beginnings and fresh hope.

  “Yes.” The single syllable hung in the air and she held her breath as hope filled her. This was what she’d been wishing for every night for weeks now. For Sebastian to come back and tell her that leaving her was the biggest mistake of his life.

  “Okay. Grovel away.”

  He sucked in a breath and came closer, slipping his arms around her waist. The tulips bunched between them, filling the air in her office with their scent. Her entire body hummed at the feeling of his hands on her, buzzing with reawakening.

  “I’m so sorry, Kayla. I should never have walked out on you the way I did. I was so focused on keeping you safe, on preventing what had happened from ever happening again that I panicked. I wasn’t thinking clearly and…” He shook his head. “We both know that I’m a mess. After what happened to you, I hated myself. I hated what my past had brought to your door, and when I think about how close you came—” He broke off and cleared his throat. “I knew I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve your forgiveness. I can’t change my past, and my past is what makes me unworthy of you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him as butterflies unfurled their wings in her stomach. “You thought I’d be better o
ff without you. So you left me alone, heartbroken, after the most terrifying experience of my life.”

  “I know. I know. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m here to ask for it anyway. Because Kayla, being with you gave me a glimpse of who I could be. What we could have. I almost lost you and that scared the fuck out of me, but I don’t want to choose fear or hating myself or any of that shit anymore. I want to choose you. Us. I love you, and if you give me another chance, I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness. Trying to be the man you deserve.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to process everything he was saying. “I love you, Sebastian. And when you walked out on me, you broke my heart.” She set the flowers down on her desk and lifted her hand, cupping his cheek. “But you’re already worthy of forgiveness. You’re already worthy of love and happiness. You were always enough for me, just the way you are.”

  “Kayla,” he said, his voice cracking around the edges. She pressed her fingers to his lips, shaking her head.

  “I’m going to keep telling you that you’re worthy and deserving of every good thing until you believe me. You’re worth so much more than you tell yourself. I know that you’re not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be. You’re a man who’s fought through a lot of really hard shit. Who’s still fighting. Just because you make mistakes, just because you made bad decisions in your past, that doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough for me. Only I get to decide what I deserve. Only I get to decide what’s good enough for me. And I choose you, Bastian. I choose you.”

  He let out a ragged breath and pressed his forehead to hers. “Even now, I don’t feel like I deserve this. Your forgiveness and your love and your kindness.”

  “You are not your failures. You are not your mistakes. You’re a man capable of love and tenderness. You’re a man with hopes and dreams and goals. And yes, you’re a man with a past, but that past isn’t who you are. I see you, and I know you and I accept you exactly as you are. I choose you, Bastian, and I’m always going to choose you. Even when you don’t choose yourself.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him, a soft, gentle kiss that tasted like forgiveness and hope. “And if you ever, ever walk out on me again when I need you, I’m going to sic Lucian on you.”

  “I thought I was supposed to be the one groveling, and here you are, making me feel like a goddamn king.”

  “Because you are, baby. I’m just polishing your crown.”

  “When you say things like that, you make me want to believe them.”

  “Then I’ll keep saying them until you do. After, too.”

  He kissed her then, a tentative exploring that quickly morphed into something hotter.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here before Stammler comes in and yells at both of us.”

  She grabbed her purse, her flowers and Sebastian’s hand and they walked out into the early New York spring, ready to face the world and whatever might come next.

  Together.

  THE END

  Thank you so much for reading Sebastian and Kayla’s story! I really hope you enjoyed it. What are Sebastian and Kayla going to do next? Will they stay in New York? And hey, whatever happened to all those sex toys? To get the answers to these questions, sign up for my newsletter. Subscribers get an exclusive copy of their extended epilogue! And keep reading for a sneak peek at what’s next for the Prescott brothers…

  The night of the home invasion

  Willa couldn’t seem to stop shaking and it wasn’t because of the cold. Ice pellets slapped against the windows of the black SUV, and the wind was frigid, but the cold wasn’t the cause of her trembling. No, that was entirely because less than an hour ago, she’d thought she was going to die.

  She couldn’t stop replaying it over and over in her mind—the men with guns in her apartment, the absolutely paralyzing fear that her life was about to end—but it didn’t feel real. That couldn’t have actually happened. There was no way that armed men had invaded the apartment she shared with her best friend Kayla and threatened to kill them both because they were looking for Kayla’s boyfriend, Sebastian.

  But it had happened, along with Sebastian’s brothers Max and Lucian busting in to save them.

  Dispose of the roommate.

  She shook a little harder and Max turned up the heat in the SUV. They’d dropped Kayla off at Lucian’s, waiting there with her until he’d returned. She could’ve stayed there too, but when Max had offered to take her back to his place, she’d agreed, wanting to give Kayla and Sebastian a little space.

  Max, who she’d frantically texted “911 home invasion pls help” when then men had burst in. They’d told her and Kayla that they’d kill them if they called the police and she hadn’t been willing to take a chance on that. But she’d needed to text someone, to try to get help somehow, and given that the men had said they were looking for Sebastian, she’d figured that Max was as good a person as any.

  Max, who was her boss. Who was grumpy as hell. Who was so sexy that she often lost her train of thought around him. Not that he’d ever given any indication that he felt the same way about her. He most definitely hadn’t, making her insane crush on him completely one-sided, and therefore a little embarrassing.

  They drove in silence and as the seat warmer worked its magic, she felt some of the tension ease from her muscles, her trembling subsiding. He turned into a parking garage below an impressive building in SoHo, swiping a card he’d pulled from the center console for entry. When he parked, he pulled into a space reserved for the South Penthouse.

  “You’ll be safe here,” he said, his deep voice rubbing over her frayed nerves like sandpaper. Even now, on the worst night of her life, her body responded to him. Apparently her hormones or ovaries or whatever hadn’t gotten the message that she’d almost died tonight.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, swallowing around the lump in her throat. All of her emotions were still right there, just simmering under the surface. But as grateful as she was to Max for coming to their rescue tonight, she didn’t want to break down in front of him. They were work colleagues and they didn’t have that kind of relationship.

  He simply nodded, then stepped out of the SUV. She moved to push her door open, but he beat her to it, opening it for her and then sliding an arm around her waist to help her down. She didn’t really need the support, but she wasn’t going to push him away. It felt far too good to have someone touch her. Physical contact was a comfort she was craving right now.

  He guided her toward a sleek silver elevator in the corner, using yet another key card to call it. Sealed inside together, she was acutely aware of their size difference. He was almost a foot taller than her, and probably a hundred pounds heavier. She’d always been self-conscious about her size—no boobs, no hips, no ass, just a figure worthy of a twelve-year-old boy. And yet there was something about how big Max was that put her at ease. She liked the difference. Maybe because it made her feel safe. Maybe because it made her feel feminine.

  Not that it mattered.

  The elevator doors slid open and she sucked in a sharp gasp. Before her was a massive penthouse, the walls made up entirely of windows. The Tribeca skyline gleamed in the night, the lights of One World Trade Center seeming to shine right in the middle of it all. She could see the Hudson and Canal Street. Up here, surrounded by glass, it felt like the city was putting on a show, just for her.

  It was beautiful, and after the ugliness of the night, she could use a little beauty. Stepping out of the elevator, her eyes roved over the impressive space, taking in the sleek, high end furniture, designer kitchen, and clear staircase that was engineered to look like it was floating. It was minimalistic and pristine. As gorgeous as it was, it didn’t look like anyone actually lived there.

  It was closed off, revealing nothing. Just like its owner.

  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” asked Max hesitantly from behind her. She turned and found him standing several feet away, rubbing the back of his
neck. He looked…uncomfortable with having her in his space.

  “Um, some water would be good, thank you.” Her mouth and throat were dry, almost to the point of pain.

  He nodded and headed toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of expensive water imported from Iceland.

  She took the bottle from him and sank down onto the couch. Now that she was truly safe, out of harm’s way, an echo of the sheer terror she’d experienced passed through her, and her hands started to shake. She tried to get the cap off the bottle, but couldn’t seem to get her hands to cooperate.

  Max sat down beside her, perched on the edge of the couch, looking as though he was ready to leap away from her as soon as he could. Without asking, he took the bottle from her and opened it, then handed it back. She took a long drink, the cool water soothing her throat.

  “Mmm. Tastes very Nordic,” she said, trying to smile. Her cheek twitched and then fell. Nope. She didn’t have it in her right now.

  “Are you okay?” he asked and then closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, as though realizing what a stupid question that was.

  “Not really, no,” she said, staring out at the twinkling skyline until her eyes went unfocused and everything blurred. “I thought I was going to die.” She turned to face him, his intense blue eyes crashing into hers. “I thought I was going to die.” Her voice cracked and broke on the last syllable and the sobs she’d been holding back burst out of her. Her body shook almost violently with the force of them, her eyes burning with hot tears. She sucked in a shuddering breath and then Max wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

  Oh. Oh, God. Yes.

  He leaned back against the couch, pulling her with him as he held her against his broad chest, one hand on her back, the other cradling the back of her head. She pressed her face into him, embarrassed that she was crying all over him but completely unable to stop and completely unwilling to pull away.