Lockout

by Maya Cross

  "Has anyone ever told you you tend to go above and beyond the call of duty?" I asked, dozing against his chest.

  He began stroking my shoulder. "In what way?"

  "Well, I tasked you with cheering me up, but apparently you weren't satisfied with that. Right now, I've left cheerful way behind. Seriously, you can't even see that shit anymore. I'd say I'm well into blissful territory. You deserve a commendation, sir."

  His hand froze. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

  "Next time, I'm totally going to call in sick and see how far we can push this."

  There was a pause. "Next time?"

  "Next time we do this. I'll tell you; a girl could get used to sleepovers and homemade breakfasts."

  The silence that followed should probably have set alarm bells ringing in my head, but I was too content to really notice. All I could think about was how for the first time, it felt like things were really coming together for us.

  How wrong I was.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It turned out that I needn't have worried about being relegated to the bench again. The Wrights case had hit the front page once more after a new batch of victims came forward, so we were ramping up our efforts. For now, it was all hands on deck.

  It was fascinating, and a little horrifying, to be a part of. A perfect illustration of the power mega companies can bring to bear when profits are under threat. I was no stranger to the greed of big business, but there was a callousness about their approach that made even me balk. They were like a truck, calmly driving along, ignoring every traffic signal. Most people managed to dive out of their way, but those that didn't weren't even worth a second glance. They were just squashed underneath like bugs. In spite of the pain and hassle a proper trial would involve, part of me hoped they refused to settle. The more I read, the more I wanted Little Bell to crush them in the court room.

  Nothing came of the situation with Jennifer, so I figured she'd just been messing with me for her own enjoyment. I felt a little stupid for overreacting. It wasn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

  I should have been happy that I was finally working on my dream project, but I couldn't really enjoy it. Something had changed with Sebastian. There was no doubt in my mind anymore that my feelings for him had grown, but ever since our morning together, his seemed to have moved in the opposite direction.

  It wasn't that he was ignoring me. He still messaged every day or two, but they were short and monosyllabic and lacked any of the warmth I'd come to expect. In person he was no better. Aloof, almost to the point of being cold, we rarely had a discussion that lasted more than a few minutes. That amazing man from just a few nights ago was nowhere in sight.

  I clung on, hoping it was just stress. Over the next two weeks, our encounters took on a fairly predictable rhythm. A spontaneous text message, a frenetic sexual rendezvous, and then a hasty departure. On the surface, it was great. I was working overtime, even by my standards, and it was the sort of comfortable arrangement that fit perfectly around that. The problem was that wasn't the kind of comfort I was looking for anymore. I often found my mind wandering back to that morning chatting over coffee, and to the night before, to the overpowering rightness I'd felt as I drifted off to sleep cocooned in his arms. And the more I thought, the more I longed for that closeness again.

  "You could stay, you know," I said to him one night, as he stood up and began to gather his things.

  "I really should get home." He even looked different now. There was a permanently harried cast to his eyes that I'd never seen before.

  "Is everything okay?" I'd tried several times to pry something out of him, even the tiniest hint of what had gone wrong, but it was useless.

  He nodded. "Yeah. I just have a lot to do, that's all." He tried shooting me a reassuring smile, but it didn't quite cut through the hardness on his face.

  I didn't understand. Our connection had felt so real and so powerful to me, and I'd been so sure he felt it too. But now I was starting to doubt myself.

  Maybe I really had just imagined everything. Maybe I had no idea how to read men at all. My past relationships certainly said as much. But if that was the case, could I keep going the way things were, knowing there was nothing more to it? It felt wrong to throw away something that was so theoretically perfect, but every night that we said goodbye, I felt my heart break just a little more.

  Still, I wasn't quite ready to give up just yet. People always said the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, and that was one approach I had yet to try. So when the weekend rolled around, I sent him a text.

  Sophia: Hey. Hope they're not working you to the bone over there. I thought maybe you could come around for dinner tonight night if you're free. I'm not much of a chef, but I do make a mean carbonara. Thought I could pay you back for breakfast the other week. Let me know.

  He replied a few minutes later.

  Sebastian: Not sure I should. But maybe I can swing by later on?

  I'd expected it, but I still felt a pang of disappointment.

  Sophia: Okay, sure.

  But as the day progressed, my frustration grew. I kept turning his message over in my mind. It was the phrasing that bothered me. There was that word "should" again. "Not sure I should." That wasn't the same as "Not sure I can." It could mean that he was too busy or had something else on, but it could also mean that he simply didn't want to. If that was the case, then I was wasting my time. I tried to convince myself to stop overthinking it, but by the time the evening rolled around, I still felt uneasy.

  Mostly out of stubbornness, I made a pot of carbonara anyway, and ate a bowl of it while reading on the couch. There wasn't much to do but wait. He hadn't given an exact time.

  At about eleven o'clock, there was a knock at the door.

  "Sophia," he said by way of greeting.

  "Hey." Even with the turmoil I felt, I found myself smiling. It was good to see him. There was something addictive about the way I felt when we were together, some beautiful nexus of hormones and emotions that made everything seem a little brighter, a little more real. I desperately wanted to keep feeling that as often as possible.

  Not even waiting until we'd made it inside, he moved in to kiss me, and for a few seconds, my body began to yield to his. But as he pressed me up against the hallway wall, his hand already teasing the curve of my ass, I felt something crack inside me.

  "Sebastian... wait..." I said, forcing myself to pull back.

  "What? Is something wrong?"

  I closed my eyes for a second and cupped my face in my hands. "Just once in a while could we maybe wait more than a few minutes before you start feeling me up?"

  His smile slipped. "I'm sorry. I just missed you, that's all. You know what your body does to me."

  "It sounds like you missed my body a lot more than the rest of me," I replied, a little more harshly than intended.

  He didn't seem to know how to reply to that.

  Suddenly feeling uncomfortable in such an intimate position, I ducked under his arm and moved into the lounge room. He followed me in silence.

  "I'm not sure I understand," he said, after about twenty seconds.

  "Well that makes two of us." I hadn't planned to go on the offensive tonight, but the churning feeling in my stomach couldn't be ignored any longer.

  "Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

  I laughed bitterly and shook my head. "Nope. You've done basically everything just the way you promised."

  "So what's the problem?" I didn't respond. "Is it about dinner?"

  I threw up my hands. "Yes... no... I don't know. I thought it would be nice, that's all. Spend a little time together. You've been distant, lately."

  "We've seen each other three times this week."

  I shot him a pointed look. "Distant and physically present aren't mutually exclusive."

  He ran a hand through his hair and began pacing. He always seemed to do that when things didn't go to plan, as though enough steps would simply carry
him away from the problem all together. "I don't understand what you want from me, Sophia."

  "I want some bloody consistency. Why is it okay for you to cook me breakfast, but I can't make you dinner? Why is it okay for me to stay over at your place, but you won't ever stay here?"

  There was a pause. "I don't know. I didn't plan any of that, it just sort of happened."

  "So? That's how these things are supposed to go. They progress gradually. What I want to know is, why are you trying so hard to make sure it doesn't 'just happen' again?"

  He shifted awkwardly and looked away. "Like I said, I've been extremely busy lately. I just don't have that much time—"

  "It's not just about the time! It's everything; the way you act, the way you talk to me. It's like there are two different Sebastians. Some days I get the kind, sweet, intensely passionate man who makes me feel wonderful, and other days it's his evil twin who barely wants to do anything but fuck, and who ignores me for weeks on end. How the hell am I meant to deal with that?"

  He pursed his lips. "I'm the same man I always was."

  "That's what I'm worried about."

  His face was a mask of intensity now. "So what are you saying, Sophia?"

  I shook my head slowly. There was no going back now. "You want me to spell it out? Okay, fine. You were right to be worried at the beginning; apparently your 'charms' are just too strong. I'm no longer happy just to write this thing off as a casual fling. Don't get me wrong, the sex is great, but it's more than that to me now. I like being with you, Sebastian, naked or not, and I can't go on doing whatever the hell it is we're doing anymore without admitting that. I thought maybe you felt the same way, but apparently I was wrong."

  I must have watched one too many sappy romantic comedies, because I was actually disappointed that my declaration didn't cause him to break into a glorious smile and sweep me up in his arms. Instead, he stared at me with an unreadable expression, his jaw working wordlessly.

  That silence was almost crushing. A car horn blared somewhere in the distance, punctuating his lack of response. "Say something for god's sake," I said, after a few seconds.

  "I'm thinking," he replied.

  White hot rage filled me. "Thinking? This isn't a moment for thinking Sebastian. This isn't a game anymore. There are no smooth lines to deliver, no different angles to approach from. If you have to think, then this whole thing is a lost cause!"

  He continued to sit, utterly motionless, his expression hard as stone.

  It was too much. I shot to my feet, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but in his presence. I couldn't even meet his eyes anymore. I should have known better than to expect something more from him. "I need you to leave," I said. "Consider our 'arrangement' over. I'm sure that will give you plenty to think about."

  I began moving towards the staircase, but as I passed him, his hand snaked out and caught my wrist. "Sophia, wait. Look at me." His voice was a dry rasp. Barely human.

  Reluctantly I turned. The look on his face was frightening enough to stop me in my tracks. It was like his expression so far had just been a mask, and now the entire thing had just broken right up the middle. His cheeks were pinched and flushed, his mouth drawn tripwire tight, and there was something new in his eyes, something I could only describe as terror. It was so intense that I could practically feel it rippling in the air around me. There was no way I was misinterpreting that. Ending this frightened him as much as it did me.

  "It's not just me, is it?" I asked, my voice surprisingly soft.

  He gave a tiny shake of his head. "Of course it's not just you."

  I sank heavily back into my seat. That admission didn't make me feel as good as I'd expected. It lifted one weight while replacing it with another.

  "So what is it, Sebastian?" I asked. "If we both want the same thing, why run away?"

  He drew a deep breath. "It's complicated. I'm complicated."

  "Relationships are complicated," I replied. "There's no avoiding it. We made a good effort at minimising all that and just sticking to the fun stuff, but I for one can't go on that way anymore. As inconvenient as it might be for both of us, this thing means something to me now, and I want everything that comes with that, including your complications."

  He gazed into my eyes, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "It means something to me, too."

  "Then stop pushing me away!"

  He hung his head. "I want to. I really do. But you don't know what you're asking. You terrify me, Sophia. I've never felt so consumed by another person before. And every time we see each other, it's like I lose another piece of myself in you. You criticise me for thinking too much, but the truth is, around you I don't think. I just do. I have no control. I'm sorry if I freaked out, but I don't know how to deal with that."

  They were the most bittersweet words I'd ever heard. His feelings were as strong as mine, but apparently that was only half the battle.

  "Why are you so afraid, Sebastian?"

  He studied me for what felt like an eternity. I knew this was the moment that would make or break us. He could throw his armour back on, pull down his mask, and march out the door, and there would be nothing I could do to stop him.

  "Have you ever lost someone?" he asked eventually. "Someone important?"

  I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Two grandparents, although I was too young to remember one very well."

  He nodded. "I've lost more than my fair share, but one cut a little closer to the bone than the rest."

  I knew instantly who he was talking about. "The girl in your phone background?"

  He swallowed loudly, then nodded.

  I thought about her every now and again. That night outside my house was one of the rare moments I'd seen cracks in Sebastian's impeccable facade. They were the same cracks I could see now, only this time, they were a hundred times worse. What the hell had I just started?

  "What happened?" I asked, as gently as I could.

  His lips compressed and he gazed down at the table. "Some men broke into her house," he said, his voice completely hollow. "The police said they were probably high, looking for money or something to sell." He gave a sad little laugh. "She was always a fighter. Never backed down from anything. That's one of the things I loved about her." He paused again. "There was a struggle. They beat her senseless. She died before the ambulance even arrived."

  My hand flew up to my mouth. "Oh god." I reached out to take his fingers in mine. "I'm so sorry, Sebastian. I didn't mean to make you dredge that up."

  "It's okay," he replied, although his expression said otherwise. He looked close to tears. It was jarring seeing him like that. He was always so strong, so in control.

  "It was serious?" I asked tentatively.

  He smiled the most gut-wrenching smile I'd ever seen. "You could say that. We were engaged."

  "Oh god," I said again. I had no idea what to say. It was the kind of grief I knew no words would soothe. Even though I'd wanted to know, part of me felt awful for putting him through this. It kind of put my commitment issues into perspective. All I'd done was make a few terribly naive choices; he'd lost the person he loved most in the world. I had no idea how I'd recover from something like that. I suspected I wouldn't.

  He closed his eyes and drew several long breaths. "I nearly told you that night outside your house, you know. Nobody besides my closest friends know about Liv, but even then, part of me felt compelled to explain it to you." He brought his eyes up to meet mine, seizing my free hand in his. "There are lots of things I want to share with you, but sharing isn't easy for me. You deserve someone who can give you everything, and I'm afraid if we go any further, I'm going to disappoint you."

  For the short period I'd known him, Sebastian had always been a mystery to me. It was like watching a magician perform. I knew there was a trick there somewhere, but I was too dazzled to spot it. But in that moment, I felt like I finally understood him just a little. Behind all those walls, behind that radiant charm and those perfect features, lay
a scared and lonely man. I hated seeing him like that, but at the same time, his candour filled me with hope. I knew how much of a gift he'd given me.

  "One step at a time, hey?" I said. "I don't need to know all of your deepest, darkest secrets right away. All I need to know is that this is real, because if we go any further and I find out that it's not, I think it will break me."

  He studied me for several seconds, a small smile managing to puncture through his otherwise grim expression. "This is the realest thing I know, Sophia."

  And then before I could even finish processing what he'd said, he was kissing me. This time I didn't try to stop him. I couldn't. I was certain if anything were going to break that moment, the very planet would have to collapse off its axis. In that kiss, I saw a vision of everything I'd ever wanted. And it was wonderful.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It's amazing the difference one night can make. Weeks' worth of tension and uncertainty, all dissipated with a single conversation. I woke with my body pressed against his, feeling more content than I had in a long time. The smile on his face when he opened his eyes said that he felt the same.

  After a leisurely love making session that involved several creative uses for a dressing gown tie, we headed for the kitchen to squeeze in a quick breakfast before work. Now that we'd acknowledged our feelings, it was more difficult than ever to say goodbye. I really just wanted to spend the whole day together, but that was the peril of a relationship between two dedicated professionals. Time was a limited commodity.

  Thankfully we had phones. I used to mock those couples who seemed to require constant contact. I had a friend at university who spent every day glued to her phone, eagerly waiting for the next inevitable text from her boyfriend. It wasn't like they were long distance or anything. She'd see him every night after class. I never understood why she couldn't just wait a few hours to say what she had to say. But now I finally got it. There was something comforting about those little connections. It wasn't so much the words themselves as what they symbolised; that someone out there was thinking of you. And Sebastian and I made sure to let each other know that as often as possible.