Every step of our walk home I knew what Seb and I were about to do was a mistake. That we were crossing a line that couldn’t be undone. That it was selfish of me to put my own desires first, when I knew I could be placing him – an innocent in whatever game my stalker is playing – in danger. Jesus, it’s why I haven’t told him about the emails. But when he kissed me, it was as if all logic went out the window. My rational side no match for that part of me that yearned to be loved. All I’ve ever craved is love from another human being. To be cared for, valued. Respected. And I guess, whenever that chance comes along, and with someone I’m attracted to, it’s impossible for me to resist.
I tell myself it’s not as if I’m forcing Seb into doing anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s a grown man after all. And I’m not blind. I knew from the first moment our eyes met that he was as attracted to me as I was to him. That magical moment when you look into another person’s eyes and everything and everyone around you becomes peripheral.
And that’s why, as we enter the house in silence, I know I am powerless to stop what’s about to happen. Even though the email’s words of warning are lodged firmly at the back of my mind:
I know you like him, but you’d be wise to fight your repellent urges; you know it never ends well when you allow them to get too close.
I watch Seb turn off the alarm then lock the door. We remove our shoes and coats and then I take his hand and carefully lead him up the stairs, leaving the lights off. I guide him to my bedroom and open the door, the desire in me swelling to new heights with sweet anticipation.
A faint light filters through the blinds which are not quite closed, so I can see the silhouette of his handsome face. He shuts the door gently then takes my hand in his, draws me near so that our bodies meet, then softly caresses my cheek, his gaze never leaving me, the hunger in his eyes burning through me. And then he brings his lips to mine and kisses me with a tenderness that takes my breath away.
All thoughts of the animal who might be watching us fade into the background as we succumb to the feelings we’ve been harbouring for one another since we first met. Wordlessly, gently, Seb lays me down on the mattress, then starts kissing every inch of my body. And suddenly I have never felt more alive or more desirable. Or more content in my own skin.
Seb and I lie in each other’s arms in the near darkness, having made love. There was nothing stilted or forced about it. The sex with Ethan had been wild and exciting but with Seb it was passionate and tender, the way it had been with Charles. I could lie here forever, but I know I cannot and that the darkness that’s suddenly enveloping my life hasn’t faded away. It’s something I’ll need to face the moment I leave this bed.
Seb raises himself up on his elbow, lays his head in his hand while looking down at me. He grins. ‘I’ve never been a toy boy before.’
I grin back. ‘So that makes me a cougar, right?’
Another cheeky smile. ‘I guess so.’
I pull a face. ‘That makes me feel old.’
He leans in and kisses me. ‘You most certainly aren’t old.’ His expression becomes serious. ‘You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And right now, I feel like I must be dreaming.’
It’s such a romantic thing to say, and I feel the tears collect in my eyes.
Seb looks alarmed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I…’
I press my index finger to his lips. ‘Shush, I’m not upset, I’m just overwhelmed by how lovely you are. But also, a little afraid.’
‘Afraid of what?’
‘Of falling for you.’
Seb lowers his gaze. Then looks back up to meet my own. ‘Me too. I never meant for this to happen. Never meant to develop feelings for you. I told myself it was a bad idea, but I just feel this…’
‘Connection?’ I interrupt. ‘I know, I feel it too.’
I hesitate.
‘What is it?’ he asks.
I take a deep breath, hoping he won’t react badly to what I’m about to ask. But it’s precisely because of the connection we’ve this minute acknowledged, along with what’s just happened between us, that I feel able to.
‘It’s OK, you can ask me anything.’ He grins. ‘I won’t bite.’
I smile as he says this, feeling somewhat bolstered by his blithe encouragement. ‘OK, well, it’s just that I get the feeling you’re carrying something painful. And I wanted you to know that if you ever need to talk about it, I’m here. I want to help if I can.’
All at once his face grows sombre. No trace of the cheeky grin in sight. He seems taken aback by my comment. And it tells me my observation wasn’t far off the mark.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,’ I say. ‘It’s just that I care about you, and I wanted you to know that I’m here to listen if you need a sounding board, the way you listened to me just now in the restaurant.’ I don’t mention that my question is largely prompted by the emails Dr Martin and I received. Not because they’ve made me suspect Seb’s hiding something terrible – that’s what the twisted fuck who’s playing with me wants me to think. Rather, it’s because they’ve caused me to really look at Seb, deep into his soul, and I can tell there’s something weighing him down. Like Max said, it’s odd for someone his age not to be on any social media. I’m not, and there’s a reason for that, which makes me think Seb must have his reasons too. ‘You’re not on any social media…’ I start to say.
I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence. Before I can say another word Seb springs off the bed as quick as lightning. Shit, I’ve gone too far. He turns around, his face twisted into an angry grimace. An expression I never imagined seeing on him. One that scares me.
‘You’ve been looking me up online?’ he says, disbelief engulfing his face. ‘Max ran a credit check. Wasn’t that enough? Why do you care what social media I may or may not be on? It’s not a crime not to have my life on display for all and sundry, you know. Maybe I like keeping my private life private. What’s wrong with that?’
It kills me to see the wounded look in his eyes. Only a few minutes ago I was lying in his arms, his fingertips caressing my skin. Now he’s looking at me like I’m the enemy. It’s a feeling that makes me sick to my stomach.
But I also find his reaction a little over the top. Why so defensive? I’m now more certain than ever that he’s keeping something buried. ‘Seb, I…’
‘And what about you, Adriana?’ All at once he turns the tables. ‘What are you hiding? Because I’m pretty sure there’s something. Something you’re too afraid to talk about, and which I’m guessing might be related to Dr Adams’s death. Possibly Ethan’s too.’
What the fuck? Anger rises up in me. Where is all this suddenly coming from? I shouldn’t have brought up the social media thing, granted, but I hadn’t expected what feels like a vicious and utterly unfair counter-attack.
‘How dare you!’ I exclaim. ‘Why would you even say that?’ I narrow my eyes as something occurs to me. ‘Tell me, was that the first time you met Stella earlier? Or had she already got to you? You did rather go on about our “chance” meeting when we talked about it in the restaurant.’
The look on his face tells me everything, and all at once I feel like the biggest fool. Lied to, betrayed. Like so many times in my life. How could he keep that from me, act as if it was the first time he’d crossed paths with Stella? I ask him this very question.
‘I didn’t want to upset you,’ he replies. ‘I knew you didn’t want me speaking to her, but it wasn’t my fault. She followed me to the Heath when I went for my run this morning. Told me about seeing someone on the roof that night with Ethan. How she didn’t think his death was an accident, and that Ethan’s father believed her. She said Ethan spoke to her shortly before he died, asking questions about you and your childhood, about what you might be hiding or running away from. He told her he’d found something, but didn’t elaborate what. I’m guessing that was when he went looking in your study, like you mentioned earlier. Stella said you’d always been reticent to talk about your childhood but that she sensed there was something or someone in your past you were scared of.’ Seb edges closer, his expression no longer angry but sympathetic. ‘Tell me, Adriana, what is it you’re afraid of? I want to help. Could it be connected to Dr Adams’s and Ethan’s deaths?’
I look at Seb, and I want to believe him, confide in him, but I’m too angry. Too hurt by his deceit. How can I possibly be honest with him when he’s failed to be honest with me? He’s kept this to himself all day, having had plenty of time to own up. Why couldn’t he just have been honest from the start? Why play these games? I can’t even look at him right now, I feel so wronged. So deflated.
‘Please leave me,’ I say.
He comes over, tries to grab my hand. ‘Adriana, I…’
I feel the stress rise up in me, so much so I feel dizzy as we lock eyes, my heart wanting him to stay, my head warning me I can’t trust him. ‘Leave, now. I need to be alone.’
He does as I say, and I feel shaky as I watch him leave without saying another word.
I lie flat on the bed and shut my eyes, hoping that sleep will come but far from convinced that it will. Knowing Seb’s now given whoever’s watching us more reason than ever to do him harm.