Right Where I Want You

by Jessica Hawkins

  “Not even close.” He squeezed my hand and let it go, leaning back on his palms. “Did you give Bruno his meds?”

  “Yes. Thank you for asking.”

  “See?” He grinned. “I’m a natural at this dog thing.”

  “It’s easy to think that when you don’t have one. From the outside, it looks like lounging in Central Park, cuddling on the couch, and posting cute videos. But there’s a lot of shit too. Literally.”

  “You keep trying to talk me out of adopting Opal,” he said.

  “It isn’t something you can decide on a whim. What if she chews up your furniture? What if you want to leave town? What if she gets sick and needs treatment?”

  Sebastian flinched. “Then I’d take care of her. Who’s going to return a dog because she’s sick? What a load of shit.”

  “Neal would’ve.”

  Sebastian looked as if I’d sucker punched him.

  I hadn’t meant to compare him to Neal after I’d just finished explaining that was why I wouldn’t see Frank again. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Give me more credit than that, Georgina.”

  “There’s no glamour in taking care of a sick dog. His care got in the way of vacations and nights out and even nights in.” Bruno’s legs twitched as he surely dreamed of chasing squirrels and a certain attractive beagle-foxhound mix. “You never know how you’ll react until you’ve been in that situation.”

  “I do know. I have been in it.” He briefly clenched his teeth. “My mom had cancer.”

  My breath caught, and I instantly regretted everything I’d just said. He hadn’t said how she’d died. No wonder he’d been so helpful with Bruno. I covered my heart. “Sebastian.”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said, his expression easing. “You and Bruno deserve better than to be abandoned that way. Opal too. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know,” I said softly. It was nice to hear that from someone other than my therapist, mom, or Luciano. “I’m sure she was so proud of you. You were a great son, and you’ll make a great dog dad.”

  He glanced at the movie screen. “How’s your food?”

  I wanted to probe further about his relationship with her, but I let him change the subject. “Good,” I said. “Really good, Sebastian. It’s not too good to be true, is it?”

  He smiled. “Tony’s makes a mean spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “I know.”

  “My guard is down. You know me now, better than anyone else at the office—better than anyone lately, aside from my family and Luciano.”

  He sat forward, brushing grass off his hands. “Is that a bad thing?”

  I tried to configure my thoughts in a way that wouldn’t offend him. I didn’t want to be rude or skeptical or accusatory. I also didn’t want to trust blindly and end up in another Neal situation. “This isn’t a game anymore.”

  “This was never a game for me, Georgina. I was scared for my job. I still am. It was never personal.”

  It was either the best or worst moment to bring up my talk with Vance. The date had gone from simulation to reality, and that meant I had more to lose. I wasn’t entirely sure Sebastian would understand if I told him what I knew, but I was sure I didn’t want this night to end here and now.

  “Can we really go from hating each other to dating each other?” I asked.

  “Justin’s convinced it’s the best way to do it.”

  “Justin sure has a lot to say about it.”

  “If he were here, he’d be handing me a spaghetti noodle right about now.”

  I laughed, spinning my bangles around my wrist. I wasn’t in the habit of discussing a kiss before it happened. I couldn’t decide if that made things more or less awkward.

  Sebastian set his empty dish aside. “All done?” He piled my plate on top of his, and he moved closer, dropping his eyes to my mouth. “I’m actually pretty annoyed with myself that I’m not your only, and not even your first date this week.”

  I shivered, both excited and nervous at the prospect of finally kissing him. “But you were the best one.”

  “You cold?” He took the blanket from my lap and wrapped it around my shoulders. Pulling me closer by the edges of it, he kissed my cheek and whispered, “For the record, I never hated you. But if you thought that, I’d like to make it up to you.”

  If anything, my shivering increased with his words. “How?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Candy.” He released me and looked into the picnic basket. “What’s your favorite go-to chocolate movie snack?”

  His nearness had stolen my wits. I pulled the blanket closed around me and tried to think straight. “You won’t find it in there.”

  “Try me.”

  “100 Grand.”

  He glanced up, blinking at me. “Are you kidding? Whose favorite candy bar is 100 Grand?”

  I shrugged. “There’s something about that crispy rice and caramel combo.”

  “Well.” The contents of the basket crinkled as he sorted through them. “I don’t have that, but it’s okay. I’ve got something even better.”

  I twisted my lips. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  He pulled out a Butterfinger. “If you like crispy, this is the one. The crumbly peanut butter flakes . . .” He groaned. “Nearly as good as sex.”

  I took it from him and inspected the wrapper. “Not the sex I have.”

  His expression darkened, and he took the bar from me, tossing it aside. “And just like that,” he said, getting closer, “I’m hungry for a different kind of dessert.”

  Instinctively, I lay back, and he followed, propping his elbow on the blanket and his head in his hand. He made no move to kiss me, just stared. I’d never observed him up close this long. Maybe it was his thick black lashes that’d once distracted me into thinking his eyes were green when they actually had hints of blue. Perhaps it was his unfairly sharp jawline more than anything that’d gotten me so riled up that first morning at the coffee shop. “We’re missing the movie,” I said finally.

  “I don’t miss it at all.”

  My cheeks practically ached from a day of smiling and laughing. Several hours on, and I wasn’t ready for our dog date to end. I wanted more. To learn not only his fears, but to understand them inside out so I could soothe him. To be there on the next anniversary of his mom’s death—equipped with Dunkin’ Donuts and a shoulder to cry on instead of harsh words over spilled coffee.

  I could picture it clearly, and if that was the future I saw for myself, I could kiss it goodbye if I took his job. He’d never forgive me. I wouldn’t do that to him anyway, now that he’d let me in and showed me what’d driven him to work as hard as he had.

  Vance had offered me something more, but today, Sebastian had painted me our potential future. Was I willing to lose that over a job? The answer was obvious.

  Sebastian was the more I wanted.

  There was only one way to wave the white flag. Perhaps because I’d fought my attraction to him for so long, it now overwhelmed me. I tilted my chin with as subtle a pout as I could manage. I could’ve begged for a kiss just then, but pillowy lips said more than words ever could.

  Sebastian cupped one side of my face. “You want me to get a noodle?”

  I would’ve laughed, but cozied up in the blanket, with him pressed up against my side, I was oddly calm—and content just to lean into his palm. He trailed his hand down my side, resting it on my waist, then lowered his mouth. I closed my eyes as his rough tongue landed on my cheek.

  Wait.

  I squealed as slobber covered the right half of my face. Bruno nosed his way between us, pushing us apart. He rested his head on my chest and stared at Sebastian.

  Sebastian flopped onto his back, scoff-laughing. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said, his eyes on the sky. “Bruno’s even nosier than Justin.”

  “At least Justin wants us to kiss. Bruno, on the other hand . . .” I put my hand on my dog’s
soft head. “I think this might be his way of saying he likes you as a friend but nothing more.”

  Sebastian turned his head, locked eyes with Bruno, and sighed. “I’ve never had to work this hard for a kiss, but if Bruno doesn’t approve, then I’ll just have to keep at it.” He moved a strand of hair from my cheek, then thumbed the bridge of my nose, over my freckles. “You know what they say.”

  “There’s a thin line between love and hate?” I asked.

  He smiled, punctuating one cheek with his semi-colon dimple. “The best buns are worth waiting for.”

  19

  GEORGINA

  On the doorstep of my apartment building, Bruno ensured Sebastian and I stood one Great Dane’s length apart. After the movie, we’d returned Opal, and Sebastian had insisted on walking me home.

  He leaned against the doorframe, admirably collected under Bruno’s side-eyeing. “So, how’d I score today?” he asked.

  “By my calculation . . . you haven’t yet.”

  “Yet?” Sebastian raised both eyebrows. “Was that an invitation upstairs?”

  I resisted an enthusiastic yes! Sebastian was first and foremost my colleague. Wasn’t he? After what he’d planned for me today and what we’d each shared, our relationship had shifted. No, he was definitely more than a colleague.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea?” I asked. “We still have to work together.”

  “I’ll quit,” he murmured, moving closer, undaunted by Bruno’s growl, “if it means I can come up.”

  My heart skipped and my insides tightened, excited by his persistence. “We haven’t even kissed.”

  He leaned in, wine and mint on his breath. “That’s because I’ve been waiting for a moment when I wasn’t at risk of getting my junk bitten off, but . . .”

  I laughed nervously and pulled Bruno back by his collar, taking the next few seconds to collect myself.

  Sebastian Quinn and I had gone on a date.

  Sebastian Quinn wanted to come upstairs.

  And me? I wasn’t ready to say goodnight.

  “What do you think, boy?” I asked Bruno as I got out my keys. “Should we let him in?”

  Bruno cocked his head and barked.

  “He says it’s all right as long as you cool it with the dog puns,” I said and unlocked the door to the building.

  Sebastian followed me in. “He’s showing me his teeth. You sure?”

  “No.” I hit the elevator call button, and the doors opened. “But I’m willing to take the risk.”

  We boarded the car. “Did he give your ex any trouble?”

  “Not really,” I said, “but Bruno and I have been on our own the past six months. Plus, Neal was sort of . . . non-threatening.”

  “That would imply I’m threatening.”

  “What I mean is that he and I had a different kind of chemistry. We went through the honeymoon phase like anyone else, but it wasn’t that intense. Or that long.”

  “Aha.” Sebastian nodded, fixing his eyes on me as we ascended. “And Bruno is picking up on our . . . threatening chemistry.”

  “He’s very intuitive.”

  “That, or I’m emitting a pretty strong I-want-to-fuck-your-brains-out vibe.”

  My breath actually caught in my throat, and my involuntary squeak turned his eyes hooded. “He’s picking up on your BDE,” I suggested.

  “If there was ever a moment for it, it would be now.” He wet his lips. “But I guess I’ll have to take it slow until Bruno’s comfortable.”

  “When have you ever taken it slow?”

  “It’s been a while since I liked anyone enough to get to know them better.”

  I stayed on my side of the elevator until we arrived on my floor, even though what I really wanted was to go to him, cancel let’s-take-it-slow, and dive in head first.

  “I was afraid opening up to someone would endear them to me,” he said. “And I was right. I want to tell you all my secrets.”

  At my door, I let Bruno in and turned to Sebastian. “You can, you know.”

  “I could,” he agreed, “but then I’d have to kiss you.”

  “You’d have to kiss me?”

  “Or kill you. Your choice.”

  “If you were any other guy, I’d accuse you of hyperbole,” I said, “but I’m sure you’ve wanted to do both at some point.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “As Justin would say, there’s a fine line between kissing and killing.”

  I stepped inside and flipped on the living room lights. “There’s the title of your feature,” I said, removing my booties.

  Sebastian paused in the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly blocking the light from the hallway. “Still want me to come in?”

  “Do you want to?” I asked.

  “Yes. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  I toed my muddy, grassy-soled, dog park sneakers under the coffee table—the same one hosting the wine bottle and glasses—and straightened a stack of magazines, which included the latest issue of Gauntlet. “If I say yes, does that make me a traitor?”

  He cocked his head, scanning me head to toe. “To whom?”

  The lamps weren’t the only thing warming the space between us. The apartment was stuffy, and having Sebastian there wasn’t helping. He took up the whole entryway, giving me looks that made me sweat. “We’re supposed to be enemies,” I said. “Don’t you feel like you’re betraying yourself?”

  “We were never enemies.” He entered the apartment, closing the door behind him. “You frustrated the hell out of me. Got under my skin in ways I didn’t like. Threatened my life’s work.”

  Well. There was no need to rehash every dirty detail. I went to the window and started working on the rusty latches. I rarely locked it because it stuck, but I had that morning knowing Bruno would be out with me.

  Sebastian strolled around the living room, his hands in his pockets as he passed my TV. He stopped to look at my Nintendo. “You really do play video games?”

  “Of course.” Well, as of a couple months ago, so I could fit in with the guys. Up until then, I’d only ever played for fun at Luciano’s.

  “Huh.” At my bookcase, he glanced at the spines before moving on.

  “Here’s another tip for the article you’re not planning to write,” I said. “Books are a window into the soul. You can learn a lot about your date by what she reads.”

  “What does it say if she reads Gauntlet?”

  “That I’m doing my job.”

  “By giving my competitor money?”

  “It was research,” I said. “I don’t have to tell you—know thy enemy.”

  He was quiet a few seconds. “What about if she reads Unleashing the Bitch Within?”

  My cheeks flushed. How had he even seen that from where he was standing? I finally got the latches unhooked and pushed up the window. “That one’s about dogs.”

  “Liar,” he said. “I read the back cover.”

  I scoffed. “It’s in the corner of the bottom shelf. You snooped earlier.”

  “Like you said, books are a window to the soul. I wanted to make sure I got a complete picture before our date. Good thing I find self-improvement sexy.” Sebastian came over and squatted to inspect the window. “All that work to open it a couple inches?”

  “That’s as high as it goes.”

  He positioned his palms under the frame and pushed. It didn’t budge.

  “Told you,” I said.

  Bruno ambled over on his long legs, sniffing the air around us. Sebastian inhaled deeply before trying again, the frame denting his palms as his face reddened. Bruno wagged his tail, sticking his nose out the window as it rose one inch and then another. By the time Sebastian blew out a breath and dropped his hands, he’d opened it enough for Bruno to get his whole head out.

  “Wow,” I said. “I didn’t think it opened that far.”

  Sebastian sat on the ground, tracing a finger along the white window frame where I’d made notches with dates in colored pencil. “Is thi
s Bruno?” he asked.

  “Since I didn’t have him as a puppy, we never really got to do the measurement thing.” I squatted and pointed to the first date. “This was when I got him at three.” I moved my finger a smidge. “Six months later.”

  A deep chuckle rumbled from Sebastian’s chest as he touched the frame. “Four,” he said, his finger basically on top of mine. “Four-and-a-half. How old is he?”

  “Almost five. I’ll measure again in January.”

  “My sister does this with her kids in the laundry room. Do you own this apartment?”

  “No, I rent. You?”

  “Own, and I still wouldn’t mark up the walls.” He dropped his hand and turned out the window. “I don’t even paint.”

  “They’re just white?”

  “You say that like it’s more unusual than measuring your full-grown dog on another person’s windowsill.”

  I shrugged with a smile. “I don’t plan to move, but if I do, I can paint over it. Life is too short not to be where you are, even if it’s a rental.”

  “That’s something my mom would’ve said. We always had the cleanest house on the block, but somehow it was still lived in. I miss that. Home.” The way he said home made me wonder what else he’d lost when his mom had passed. Knowing the truth about his past, and how he’d gotten here, made me feel closer to him than ever. If not because I understood him now, then because I doubted he often shared the way her death had affected him.

  A breeze from the window blew hair over my face. He reached out and tucked it behind my ear. “I think I might feel attached to you now, Georgina,” he said and thumbed the corner of my mouth. “Which would make it hard to kill you.”

  “So I guess you’d better kiss me instead.”

  He glanced at Bruno, who still had his head out the window, then slid his hand around the back of my neck. He pulled my mouth to his, stopping when we were an inch apart. “Stay very still,” Sebastian whispered. “Or you’ll wake the beast.”