She figured she could hang back and say nothing and potentially watch this thing with him shrivel up and smoke away, or she could follow him and figure out what the hell was going on.

Via stood at the end of the hallway to give him a little privacy. She’d come up here intending to talk. But talking was the very last thing on her mind as she watched him smile into his phone, saying something soft and reassuring to his son.

An image of him dancing with Shelly traced through her mind. Shelly had been so pleased, so happy to be dancing. Seb had towered over her, confident and sure in his dance moves. And now he was talking to his son on the phone. Wishing him good night.

“I love you, too, little man. I’ll see you when you wake up, okay? Good night.”

Seb ended the call and needled the corner of his phone into his eyebrow for a second before he shoved it in the pocket of his suit pants. He rose up slowly and sighed, still leaning against the wall.

He had no idea that Via was down the hallway, burning for him. Her heart galloped in her chest as she realized what she was about to do.

Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she stepped forward.

Seb’s head flicked over and he looked surprised to see her. “Via,” he started.

But then he apparently took in the expression on her face, because he didn’t say another word as she rapidly closed the distance between them.

He looked torn. She couldn’t tell if she was about to make a humongous fool out of herself. But maybe that made it all that much better. Because who cared about being a fool? Fear of being foolish had kept her in a mediocre relationship with a man-child for two years. Fear of being foolish had kept her lonely for far longer than that. She didn’t care if he rejected her or rebuffed her. She didn’t care that when she was just five steps away his hands came up between them. She didn’t care that she couldn’t tell if he was going to grab her close or push her away.

There was just one pulsing word in Via’s head as she closed the distance between them, laced her fingers in his short hair and yanked his head down: this.

This was what she wanted.

The quick inhale that said he was holding his breath, too. The almost vulgar heat of his calloused hands as he—thank Christ—firmly slid them over her bare back. The demolition of space between them as she clamped herself to him. This. This. This.

She might have marched down the hallway to grab him, but he was the one who started the kiss. He dropped his head and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were a firm, experienced slide, and there was no describing a flavor like that. Man and chocolate cake and dark hallway where the autumn gardens leaned in on every side. Everything was bathed in deep blue light, and Via knew they’d somehow found their way to the bottom of the ocean.