Sunnyside (a Sebastian Stan story)

I Don't Need Him To Like Me

Sebastian walked out of his kitchen, pausing to pat the dog as he moved to join me on the sofa. I had come straight over from a client's house, still in my polo shirt and khakis, and we had ordered a pizza. The whole scene brought me back to our first night together. "You gonna pour Crown Royal down my throat and fire questions at me tonight?"

He smiled, and settled next to me, leaning in for a kiss. I obliged with a quick peck on his lips.

"If you think it might ease some of that tension, then absolutely," he answered.

I sighed loudly. He was right. It had been over a week since what I'd taken to calling, at least mentally, the "shower showdown", and he'd really been doing his best to make up for it. It was probably time I let the rest of the frost slide off my attitude. "I'm sorry. Let's try that again." I leaned towards him.

He grinned, and gave me his "warning shot"- the kiss that meant he was just on the edge of losing control. I melted against him, letting myself give in to the need to be near him, but he pulled away abruptly. I had to try really hard not to vocalize my dissatisfaction, but apparently I should have controlled my facial expression as well.

"You do look cute when you pout, but it won't work," he laughed at me, good-naturedly. "I'm starving. Pizza first." He bit into a cheesy slice and his eyes twinkled mischievously at me as he chewed.

"Whatever, you're not even supposed to be having pizza. You're lucky I don't tattle to that nutritionist you have such a love/hate relationship with." No pizza, no wine, no chocolate; basically the things I couldn't live without. How he was surviving, I had no idea.

"Mmhmm," he mumbled, making the kind of face as he ate that I would prefer to see him make upstairs, wearing less clothing. Despite the absence of my sister in my bed, the make up sex we'd had after our fight was the only time we'd made love in the last week. I couldn't quite decide if it was because we were finally getting a grip on our hormones, or if we were both still smarting a little. I squirmed a bit, and licked my lips.

He tossed his crust to the dog, and winked at me as he licked a bit of sauce from his thumb. "I can't decide if the look on your face is because you want to devour the pizza, or me. Frankly, I hope it's me."

I reached for the pizza box. "You said food first."

He reached over and flipped the box closed, and grabbed my wrist. He stood and pulled me towards the stairs. "I did. And I ate."

He didn't falter even a little when the dog pulled the familiar trick of pulling the pizza from the table and running off with it; a sign of just how focused he was on me at the moment. "Let her have it. We have business to attend to." He threw me over his shoulder and climbed the stairs.

****

To his credit, I didn't get so much as a sour face from Sebastian when I told him I was going out with Sam. All I got was a "Cool, have fun." This was a huge victory in my book. That being said, I did get about five text messages from him over the course of my evening with her, and had to put my phone deep in the recesses of my purse.

Sam and I had decided to try out a new wine bar that had opened and was getting rave reviews. It was all dark wood and bright white upholstery (a mistake, if you ask me. I've cleaned red wine out of more than my fair share of white upholstery). We had tucked ourselves into a cozy corner and had been having pleasant conversation surrounding, mainly, her ongoing search for "the perfect piece".

She was still fishing around for the article that would finally get her launched to if not the front, then at least the middle of the magazine. I kept wondering when she was going to bring up the whole interview thing. I could feel the subject sitting between us like an awkward third wheel.

"He seems chattier than usual tonight," Sam observed.

"I'm sorry. I'm not really sure what's going on with him right now."

She tipped the last drops of her wine into her mouth and plunked the glass down in front of her. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." I didn't feel like letting her know about our fight, because it would inevitably lead to what had started it in the first place.

Her face clearly said "yeah, right", but she didn't actually say anything. She just leaned back against the plush bench and crossed her arms.

"What?"

"It's the interview." Damn her intuition. She reached for her phone and checked the time, setting it spinning on its curved back when she set it back down on the low, dark table that ran the length of our bench, coffee table style.

I cringed internally, and externally- well, I hoped it came across more as an apologetic half-smile. "Look, I'd love to say 'Yes! Let's do the interview!', but it's not something either Seb or I is comfortable with."

Sam chewed her lip for a moment before nodding her head. "I understand."

I felt bad. Really, I did. "I know that it would be really good for your career. It just wouldn't be good for for us. Not right now. Maybe not ever."

"Say no more," Sam said. She reached for her phone again. "I get it, and it's okay. I knew it was a long shot, with Sebastian not being my biggest fan and all."

I started to protest; to tell her not to put it on him since it was as much my decision as his. She stopped me. "I'm not an idiot, Winnie. I know he doesn't like me."

"You make him uncomfortable. He doesn't think you're a bad person, he just feels exposed around you, and his personal life is getting harder to keep guarded as his star rises higher, that's all."

Sam flagged down a passing waiter and ordered a bottle of the rosé she'd been drinking. "You don't need to explain. I don't need him to like me."

She leaned toward me and squished my face, giving me fish lips. "I just need you to like me, you lovely girl, you." I laughed, though with my lips compressed it mostly came out my nose as a snort.

She let me go after giving me a gentle shake. It felt good to get the elephant chased out of the room and move on.

"You're sharing that bottle with me." I wasn't asking.

"Maybe."

"Lush."

"Undeniably."