“You would never do it sober,” he sighed.
“Exactly,” Emily nodded again, feeling embarrassment like a solid weight pushing her down.
“Right,” Seb said, standing up. “I'll walk you back.”
Emily gave a double thumbs-up to that. Has she ever done that before? Well, maybe she still had some alcohol left in her system after all.
***
They never talked about that night, not on the way back, not when they graduated, not when they both started interning at Emily's father's company. But nothing else changed.
Seb was back to being Seb the very next day. So Emily never mentioned it, even though she could still feel the rejection and embarrassment every time she thought about that kiss, which was now down to just a couple of times a day. A huge improvement.
“Hey! You want to come over today to binge Game of Thrones? We missed the last three episodes,” Seb said, sitting on her desk while Emily tried to focus on work and avoided looking at the guy in front of her.
“Em?” Seb said, waving his hand in front of her face.
He asked something, didn't he? “Yeah,” she said, hoping that was the right answer.
“Perfect. Let's drive together after work. When are you getting off?”
Great, she’d volunteered herself for more torture! But she’d been avoiding one-on-one time with Seb for a few weeks now. She couldn’t do more than that without raising suspicion. “Five, I guess. No one's really in a working mood after the proposal finished yesterday.”
“Yet you're sitting here working through lunch,” Seb chastised.
“Yup, that's what I was doing,” Emily said quickly.
“Okay, weirdo. Meet me in the lobby at five,” Seb said, patting her shoulder and removing his hand too slowly. Then, he was gone.
Emily wished Seb would stop touching her. Didn't he realize he was too hot for casual touches? Especially after rejecting someone no more than a few months ago. This was downright cruelty.
But Emily was a sucker, so she was in the lobby at five sharp. They decided to drive in Seb's car. Emily could pick hers up tomorrow. She'll end up spending the night at Seb's anyway, so it made sense.
It was worse than torture. She was slowly killing herself. But she must be a masochist because she couldn't stop. How fun!
Once they were in Seb's one-bedroom, she changed into her pajamas in the bathroom. She took her time to psych herself up for another night of pining.
“The popcorn's in the oven,” Seb's voice came from the bedroom when she finally found the courage to get out and face the music.
Obediently, she brought the popcorn to the center table. She sat herself on one corner of the couch to avoid any touches, accidental or otherwise, and cued the episode they had missed. After a couple of minutes, Seb walked in wearing a tank top, Emily's favorite, and shorts. It wasn't even hot outside!
He jumped on the couch without any care in the world.
Was he kidding her? “Are you kidding me?”
“What?” Seb looked at her innocently.
Wait, did she say that out loud? Emily didn't know what had just happened. Some circuits crossed, probably, but there were so many easy outs. She just had to make something up. Yep, that's right. “Ummm…” Why couldn't Emily remember any words?
Seb looked at her with worry. Well, good, because she was definitely worrying herself. He moved closer and rubbed his hand up and down her arm.
Emily felt the hair in his path rise. He leaned in close. Too close.
“Are you okay?” Seb asked slowly. He cupped her cheek with his other hand and helped her close her mouth. Was it open?
Seb smiled. “You're not having a stroke, are you?”
Would he be happy about that? Why was he smiling?
