Page 116 of Contested

As he reached the kitchen, Sebastian’s eyes flicked to Loren as she stood over the stove making tea, moving as if she knew where everything was, even though she opened several wrong cupboards.

Sebastian wiped his face again, his eyes still wet and red, and took a seat at the counter. Marcos sat beside him, and Loren glared at him before turning back to what she was doing.

“Nice to meet you,” Marcos said, voice too cheery for the weight of the room.

“We’ve met before,” Loren said shortly, not looking at him.

“Oh?”

“At a junior game. You were against Seb.”

“Ah, right. Well, I was probably too caught up in winning.”

“You lost.” Loren placed a cup of tea in front of him and another in front of Sebastian.

Marcos hummed. “I’ve been hit in the head a lot?”

Loren turned to Sebastian. “Really? Him?”

Sebastian shrugged, wrapping his hands around the cup and feeling the warmth spread through his palms.

The tea was too hot to drink, but he lifted it anyway, letting the steam touch his face. It gave him something to look at that wasn’t Loren’s swollen eyes or Marcos trying too hard to sit normally beside him.

Silence settled through the kitchen as the three of them sipped their tea. Sebastian kept his eyes down, trying to sort through his own mind and slow down his heart.

Thoughts of his father made themselves known too easily as he circled what Loren had said.

Sebastian’s fingers tightened around the cup.

Loren had been right. That was the part he couldn’t get around, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had always only been looking out for himself.

Even now, when Loren had come to him for support, it had switched hands too quickly. He had become the one crying. The one held. The one reassured.

His finger circled the rim of the cup, and he felt Marcos’ knee tap his own. He glanced up.

Marcos wasn’t looking at him, but at Loren. His knee still rested against Sebastian’s, steady and unmoving.

“So, Loren, right?” Marcos asked, not waiting for an answer. “What do you do?”

“Banking,” Loren said.

“That’s cool. I use those.”

“I love you, Bao. But seriously?” Loren questioned, meeting Sebastian’s gaze.

A laugh tried to rise in Sebastian’s chest and caught somewhere painful instead.

“It’s complicated.” Sebastian sighed. “I’m sorry about Dad and—”

“I know. But later.”

The words weren’t soft exactly, but they were gentler than before. Loren wrapped both hands around her own cup and leaned her hip against the counter, eyes dropping to the tea like she needed the break as much as he did.

A smile flickered on Sebastian’s face as he went to pick at his nails again, but stopped himself.

Marcos cleared his throat. “This is, uh, good tea.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrow, watching Marcos take a sip and his face pull tight. “You hate it.”