Frosted with Love

Chapter 8: A Night to Remember

Selina's POV

The bakery feels quieter now, the rush of the evening behind me. The gentle hum of the fridge in the corner and the soft scrape of the broom against the floor are the only sounds breaking the silence. I’m exhausted and physically drained but there's a strange comfort in closing up for the night, knowing the day is over.

“Thanks again for all the help,” I say, glancing over at Sebastian as he finishes wiping down the counters. “I don’t think I would’ve managed without you.”

He looks up from his task, that easy smile of his always making me feel like I’ve known him longer than I really have. “No problem. Honestly, it was kind of fun. Your bakery’s got a good vibe.”

I nod, feeling a little lighter from his words. He seems to have this way of making everything feel a little easier. But then I notice the time. Darkness has settled outside, and the town looks quieter than usual.

“I should probably head home,” I say, wiping my hands on the dish towel draped over my shoulder. “It’s getting late.”

I turn toward the door, but then I feel Sebastian’s presence behind me. He speaks before I can make another move.

“I could drive you home,” he says casually. “It’s getting late, and it’s the least I can do after everything tonight.”

I hesitate, still not wanting to impose. My house is only a short walk away, and I’ve always liked the peacefulness of the town at night. But the thought of not being alone for a little while, of continuing this oddly comfortable conversation, makes me pause.

“I’m okay,” I say quickly, even though I know deep down that the offer isn’t as easy to decline as I want it to be. “It’s not too far. I’ll walk.”

Before I can reach for the door, though, Sebastian’s voice cuts through the quiet again.

“I’m actually starving,” he says, and I look back at him, eyebrows raised. “How about this. Let me drive you to my place, and I’ll cook us dinner. We’re both tired, so I want to do something nice for you.”

I’m not sure what to say. I barely know him outside of the bakery, and the thought of going to his place feels personal. But then again, I’m hungry, and I can’t deny the idea of a warm meal sounds appealing.

“I don’t know…” I begin, feeling a small hesitation inside me. “I’m not sure if I should…”

He must sense my doubt because he steps a little closer. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a quick dinner. You’ve had a long day, and I think you deserve something nice.”

I chew on my lip, feeling the internal tug-of-war between my own reservations and the growing curiosity. The warmth of his presence, the way he makes everything seem effortless, somehow pushes me to say, “Alright, I’ll go. But only because I’m starving.”

A smile stretches across his face. “Perfect.”

Without another word, he leads me outside to his car, and the short drive feels more relaxed than I expect. We pull up to his cabin, tucked away in a quiet corner of the town. It’s a little secluded, and there’s something oddly comforting about the way it stands against the dark night sky.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, as he holds the door open for me, and I step inside, instantly struck by the cozy warmth of the place.

The cabin is small but inviting. Soft light spills from the kitchen area, and I’m surprised at how simple yet stylish it is. Wooden floors, a few plush chairs, and the faint scent of cedar in the air. It’s not what I expected from someone like him, someone who’s always so put together, but I kind of like it. It feels human.

I slip off my shoes by the door, and he disappears into the kitchen, his movements quick as he begins pulling things out of the fridge. The sound of him cooking is oddly soothing, and for a moment, I just stand there, taking it all in.

“So, what do you like to eat?” he calls over his shoulder.

“Anything,” I reply, shrugging, though my stomach growls loudly. “I’m not picky.”

He laughs softly, his voice drifting back toward me. “I’m thinking pasta. Quick and easy. Is that okay?”

“That sounds perfect,” I say with a small smile, then add, “I’m not much of a cook myself, so I’ll leave it to you.”

“I’m sure you could pull off a decent meal if you tried,” he says, his tone teasing. “But for tonight, I’ve got it covered.”

I take a seat on the couch, feeling a little out of place. It’s just dinner, right? Nothing to worry about. But then, as I watch him move around the kitchen, there’s this quiet tension in the air, a pull that feels impossible to ignore.

I try to distract myself, glancing around the cabin. The fire in the corner crackles softly, casting a warm glow across the room. It’s peaceful here, so different from the constant rush of the bakery.

A few minutes later, Sebastian comes back into the room, leaning against the kitchen counter. His eyes meet mine, and there’s something in them, something unspoken. “Need any help?”

“No, I’m good,” I say quickly, smiling a little. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re enjoying the view of me cooking?”

I try to suppress a laugh, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, but I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. “But I guess I could watch you cook. It’s kind of nice.”

“Good,” he says, clearly enjoying himself. “I’ll keep you entertained.”

As he starts making the pasta, the conversation turns easy again. We talk about the bakery, the project for the Winter Wonderland, and the town. There’s a comfort in the way he talks, like he’s known me for years, and for a moment, I forget about the awkwardness I was feeling before.

Eventually, the meal is ready. He places two steaming plates of pasta on the table, the smell of garlic and fresh herbs filling the room. We sit down, and the silence between us feels a little heavier now. The air seems charged, different from before. It’s still casual, but there’s a new tension I can’t ignore.

We eat in silence at first, both of us avoiding the elephant in the room. But then, Sebastian speaks, his voice soft but teasing.

“So, you like the food?”

I glance up, feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s great. Really. You’re a good cook.”

He smiles, his gaze lingering a little too long on me. “I’m glad you like it. But there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask.”

“Yeah?” I say, trying to sound casual, but my heart rate picks up anyway.

“You’re not blushing, are you?”

I immediately feel the heat creep up my neck, and I try to look away, but I’m caught. “I’m not.”

“You sure?” His grin widens as he leans in, and the playful tone in his voice only makes the heat in my cheeks worse.

I try to keep my composure, but I can feel the tension building again. He’s too close, too aware of me. And I’m starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, I’ve been drawn in by him more than I want to admit.

Then, without warning, he leans in, and the world seems to stop for a moment. His lips brush against mine in a soft, almost teasing kiss. I don’t pull away. I lean into it, feeling the warmth spread through me.

The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, until everything else fades. I’m lost in him, in the moment. His hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel my pulse quicken, my breath coming faster.

But then, just as things start to heat up, the oven timer goes off, breaking the moment. We pull apart, laughing awkwardly.

“Guess dinner’s officially done,” he says with a wry smile.

I can’t help but chuckle, trying to steady my breathing. The tension lingers in the air, but it’s different now. More playful. More uncertain.

After we eat, things are quieter. It’s a strange kind of awkwardness between us, but I can feel the unspoken weight of it hanging there. I stand up after a while, not knowing what to say, and Sebastian watches me, his gaze lingering on me.

“Thanks for the dinner. But I should probably go,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “It’s late.”

He stands too, walking me to the door. “I’ll drive you home.”

We get to my place, the car parked outside my house. Sebastian turns to face me, his expression softening as he steps closer.

And then, without a word, he leans in and kisses me again. This time, slow and sweet, lingering just long enough to leave me breathless.

“Goodnight, Selina,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.

I don’t know how to respond, so I just smile, feeling my heart flutter. “Goodnight,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

I step out of the car, my mind racing. The night has been full of moments I wasn’t expecting, and now I’m not sure what to think or feel. But one thing is clear. I’m not ready for it to end.

As I close the door behind me, I let out a shaky breath, my heart still pounding in my chest.