Chapter 142

64. An Evening Wrapping Presents or I Am The Luna Chapter 142 By Moonlight Muse

SEBASTIAN.

It’s the following evening and for the first time as far back as I remember, I am enjoying Christmas time.

The blizzard has gotten worse, and that just sealed the fact that we are indeed spending Christmas

here. I am not going to complain, spending night and day with Zaia and not once being told to get a

hotel is the best gift I could ever be given.

The kids have gone to bed, with Zion offering to tuck Xander in for Zaia. He’s a good kid and acts far

more mature for his age than he is. I’m proud of him, and I can tell he takes good care of Zaia.

Although he’s clearly trying to play Cupid. Since I arrived, he and Sia would find reasons to leave the

room, but I’m not complaining. If he wants to help, give me some alone time with Zaia, I’m all for it.

There’s something different about her now. She isn’t avoiding me as she was eighteen months ago.

She’s more open and I like it…

I promised to hold back, but now… unless I’m reading the signs wrong, she doesn’t seem to mind my

flirting or subtle hints… but do I push her to test those limits? Or do I hold back the raging tornado of

emotions that courses through me like havoc?

We’re currently in the lounge as we begin wrapping the presents I had grabbed. The ones she had

gotten for them had been taken out of the luggage and placed under the tree. She’s left to get us some

drinks, but her tempting, seductive scent remains.

The fire is ablaze in the hearth, warming the room. The lights from the Christmas tree in the corner and

surrounding the window ledge glow cosily. The snow is falling rapidly, and the wind is still roaring, but

inside it’s nothing more than blissful peace.

The sound of her footsteps approaching makes me look down at the box I am currently wrapping. I’ve

done alright, but it’s nowhere near as neat as the one she had done. Folded several times to create a

design to the packaging and finished off with a satin ribbon. When did she even find the time to learn

things like this?

“How are you getting on?” she asks, and I look up, trying not to check her out as she puts down a tray

containing two glasses of wine and a plate of profiteroles.

She takes a seat beside me on the couch and crosses her legs. I’m very aware of how close she is,

despite the small gap she’s left between us…My gaze flicks to the wine as she tilts her head.

“You wrapped it.”

“Not too badly, right?” I say confidently, despite the simple wrapped box. She leans over, picks up the

box and she examines the wrapping.

“It’s perfect.” She compliments, looking up at me.

“Sure it is,” I reply not believing her, I know it’s not that good. “Maybe you should just do the rest. I’ll

help, but I don’t think the kids would appreciate mine.”

“They will. The way it’s wrapped isn’t going to bother them. Besides, it’s going to be torn, anyway. Do

you want me to teach you how to do the folds?” she asks as she picks up the red tartan print wrapping

paper and motions for me to grab Xander’s racing car.

“I think I’m okay with just watching you work,” I say, sitting back and spreading my arm across the back

of the sofa as she begins wrapping the box.

“Ok.” She chuckles.

“So, have you met your dad’s girlfriend?” I ask after a few moments of comfortable silence, wondering if

she knows who it is.

She shakes her head. “No, he wanted to introduce us on Christmas, but I couldn’t make it. Although

with how bad the weather is, the internet is rocky, I don’t even know if there’ll be enough of a

connection to even wish the rest a Merry Christmas.” She sighs, brushing her hair back as she reaches

for one of Sia’s jewellery boxes. Her top rides up and I can’t help but glance at the smooth skin on her

back.

Fuck, is she fine…

“Hmm. Then I’m glad you’re not alone out here.”

“Do you know her?” she asks curiously, now turning towards me. Her knee brushes mine and I try not

to focus on it.

“I’ve met her,” I say.

We both know her, but I don’t plan to be the one to break that news to her. She narrows her eyes,

suspicion clouding them.

“Who is she?”

“It isn’t my place to tell, but if you want to know, I can tell you,” I say quietly, wondering if I shouldn’t

have mentioned it.

She hesitates before a small devious smile that looks just like Xander’s crosses her lips. Now I know

where he gets it from.

“Tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she says, leaning closer. I move forward, picking up the first

glass of wine and holding it out to her, she takes it and I pick up the second one as I sit back.

“Well, you know her.”

“I do… Who?” she asks, watching as I take a gulp of my wine.

It’s my favourite…

“Shelby.”

Her eyes widen, her smile vanishing as she gasps, her mouth parting. ”

Atticus’s Mom?!” she exclaims.

“Yup, so, if they ever get married, you two get to become step-siblings,” I smirk arrogantly.

She rolls her eyes at me, but she’s still digesting the news.

“So… Dad and Shelby Payne… whoa…” she exhales, placing her hand on my thigh as she turns to the

fire, staring into it. Pleasure rushes through me and straight to my fucking cock as she keeps her hand

there, clearly not realising the effect she’s having on me, and I can feel myself hardening.

Fuck. Not now, please.

Focus on anything but how good this feels, Sebastian.

“Yeah, well, I’m surprised Atticus hasn’t told you,” I remark.

I’m not sure how their relationship is now, and although I acknowledge he’s done a lot for her, I also

can’t deny that I am jealous of their relationship, even though I know Zaia has never considered him

more than a friend. Guess he just doesn’t cut it for her.

I smirk at that, but it vanishes when she removes her hand and begins playing with a strand of her hair

subconsciously. Does she realise how fucking sexy she looks doing that, a sexy pout on those kissable

lips of hers.

“No, I haven’t really talked to Atticus in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s surprising,” I remark, trying not to show any emotion. She looks up, letting go of her hair and

tilts her head, observing me. “Is it? Why?”

“You two are close, right?”

“We are. But we don’t talk that much. He is and always will remain a good friend, but…” she sighs.

“But? He still has feelings for you?” I ask, unable to stop myself. She looks back at the fire and leans

back against the sofa, her head touching my arm a little and I don’t move, not wanting her to realise.

“I don’t know, but he knows I don’t feel that way and over the years he’s accepted that. I’ve just made

sure there’s distance between us to help him … I guess.”

Her words resonate in my head, but despite the years… even I have not been able to let her go…

“You won’t make fun of him?” she asks, arching one of her perfect brows.

I look over at her and shake my head. ” No. Because I know how it feels loving you… I don’t blame him

for not being able to let go of his emotions.” My words are quiet, and the pounding of her heartbeat is

loud in the silence.

I know I never will get over her and I’m fine with that, even if it means loving her from afar…

She’s silent this time, her hair curtaining her face, and I sit forward to see her face, resisting the urge to

brush her hair back.

“Why the silence, Foxie?” I whisper, calling her something I haven’t in years. She shakes her head and

looks up at me. “I was just reminiscing about our lives.”

“It’s sure been a wild ride,” I reply, downing my wine as she still holds hers, barely touched.

“It has, but don’t you feel that the storm is finally over?”

The storm was over years ago for me… but for her, I know that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, it is over now. Have you found the peace you were looking for, Zaia?” I ask the question that I

have always wondered.

Even when times were tough, she was brave, remaining strong, but deep down, it had affected her

greatly.

She turns to look at me, our faces barely a handspan apart.

“I did… I realised it wasn’t just you. Everyone around me had secrets. I needed time to realise why

everyone who loved me kept things from me, but although it took time, I realised it wasn’t betrayal but

their love. The things they did, the decisions they made, they were out of love even if I did end up

getting hurt.”

She places her glass down and looks at the ceiling continuing. “It was a long process, hurting,

understanding, realising… accepting and letting it go.”

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but looking back, I do realise how damaging my decision was for you

and_”

“Don’t,” she whispers softly, placing her hand on my thigh again as she shakes her head. “We are who

we are because of the decisions we have made and learned from. It doesn’t hurt anymore, and I

understand it.”

Her words are like the crisp soothing breeze of the first winds of morning and this time it’s my heart

that’s racing.

“Zaia-”

“Sebastian-”

I can’t help but chuckle. It feels like I’m back to the first time I tried to talk to her. She probably doesn’t

even remember it.

“You go first,” she says, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I would say ladies first, but we both know you’re more than that.” She’s my equal… “Well then, I’ll go

first. You don’t need anyone to tell you this, but seeing you now, I’m proud of you. You survived through

everything, and you’ve come out stronger. You’re an incredible woman Zaia, you’ve shown you need

no man.”

She blushes lightly, taking a sip of her wine. “Thanks. I don’t think I do,” she says proudly, but it’s the

glint in her eyes as they dip to the front of my crotch that speaks an entirely different story.

“I take back what I just said. I guess you still need a man for some reasons,” I remark cockily as I lean

forward, taking her glass from her and downing it.

Her cheeks darken, and she knows I caught her looking. I wish I could say it’s the wine in my system…

but it isn’t. I place the glass down, taking hold of her chin and forcing her to look up, our faces inches

apart.

Her lips are glistening from the kiss of wine, the scent mingling with her sweet breath.

And when I speak, my own voice is deeper and huskier than usual, mingling with the crackling of the

fire as I ask her the questioning burning at the forefront of my mind.

“Tell me, Little Fox, where do we go from here?”