“Jury’s still out,” Harper said. “Though the entertainment value is definitely high.”
Sebastian leaned back in his chair, studying her. “You know, six months ago, if someone had told me I’d be having dinner with Harper Sinclair on my terrace, I’d have assumed it was some elaborate interrogation technique.”
“Who says it isn’t?” Harper shot back. “Maybe I’m just really committed to getting the story.”
“What story would that be?”
“Reformed playboy attempts romantic dinner, accidentally reveals he’s capable of genuine human emotion.”
“Reformed?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “That’s generous of you.”
“I’m feeling charitable tonight.” Harper’s expression grew more serious. “Besides, we both know this isn’t about a story anymore.”
“No,” Sebastian agreed quietly. “It’s not. The question is whether we’re brave enough to see where it goes.”
“Are you?”
“With you? I’m willing to find out.” He paused, then added, “As long as we can keep it between us for now. I know that’s not ideal, but—”
“Sebastian.” Harper reached across the table to touch his hand, her fingers tracing over his knuckles. “I get it. We need privacy to figure this out without the whole world watching. I want that too.”
The simple contact sent electricity up both their arms. Sebastian turned his hand palm up, threading their fingers together.
“Your turn,” Sebastian said, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
Harper was quiet for a moment, distracted by the gentle pressure of his touch. “You already know plenty.”
“Tell me something real,” Sebastian asked.
She hesitated, then: “When I’m overwhelmed, I eat cereal for dinner and reorganize my bookshelves. I talk to my houseplants. And when I was twelve, I wanted to be a war correspondent.”
Sebastian’s thumb stilled. “Really, a war correspondent?”
“I thought danger made stories matter more. I wanted to be where the world cracked open.”
“And now?”
“I think intimacy is harder than war zones,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting his. “Harder to get right. Easier to screw up.”
He was quiet for a moment, still holding her hand. “That’s not what I expected.”
“I’m not what people expect.”
“I like that about you.” His voice was soft, serious. “I like that you surprise me.”
Harper looked at him, skeptical, “You say that now.”
“Then I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.” He replied.
They sat in companionable silence, the night air cooling around them, their joined hands the only point of contact.
“Your turn,” she said. “Tell me something real.”
Sebastian leaned back, but didn’t release her hand. His eyes were fixed on the candlelight between them. “Sometimes I wonder if I only know how to be charming because I never learned how to be safe.”
The words hung between them, raw and honest.
“That’s very real,” Harper said softly.