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And it appears I’ve poked a hole in the dam, because more tumbles out. “And Sebastian doesn’t drink at all, so if you ever need a designated driver, you know who to call.”
I’m expecting an awkward silence, or for Cassie tochallenge me, the way I know Morgan would if I said the same to her, but she surprises me by lighting up. “Nicely done, you two. It’ll be good to hang around some responsible adults for a change.”
I laugh loudly. That’s the last thing anyone should call me. Sebastian, yes. But like Aiden, I’ll be eighteen till I die. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Oh, thank god. Mature isn’t really my style.”
As my pulse cools down, I feel lighter, freer. That wasn’t so hard. Maybe I can actually do this. Be honest, be myself. Stop worrying so much about fitting in, and instead make space for the real me.
17
BEE
“How doyou feel about engagement parties?”
I turn quickly to face Sebastian, who is holding my denim jacket. “Extremely positive.”
As he slips the material over my shoulders, I wonder how it’s possible to be a human being and a puddle of goo at the same time.
“A simple yes would have worked.”
My heels are where I left them by the door, and I hide what can only be described as heart eyes by bending over to put them on.
I’m comforted by the aborted groan I hear from behind me. Good. If I have to look at him in that purple button-down all night, then he can suffer right alongside me.
I huff a laugh, still busy with the tiny straps of my shoes. “My apologies. Did I upset the master of the house?”
The breath he lets out reminds me of a bull. If I pushed, would he charge or back off?
My plan must be working, because Sebastian doesn’t even argue when I blast the truck’s air conditioning on the drive over.
I spend the next twenty minutes watching him shift gears, mapping out the veins on his hand. I want to reach over. Thread my fingers between his. I want him to pull over so I can climb into his lap again. I want to replace the memory of his kiss with the reality of his lips against mine. But most of all, I want to be the version of myself that goes after what I want, rather than sitting here hoping for it.
I know Sebastian is waiting for me to make the next move. This is another lesson, and we’re both missing out right now because I’ve always been a “wait first, do later” person.
But I want to try.
It takes an age, but I finally cross the scant inches between us. His hand is warm, a little rough. My breath catches, then releases in a whoosh when he hooks his thumb over mine and squeezes.
I don’t dare turn my head.
A bundle of energy and cologne wraps me up in a hug before I’ve even crossed Lady Luck’s threshold. Bram’s blond curls bounce as he ushers us inside the club, which is closed for the party. “Family only tonight,” Bram says before giving me an appraising once-over. “So this is the girlfriend I’ve heard so much about.”
I’m saying, “We’re not…” before I can stop myself, and once I catch it, it’s too late, and Sebastian’s smile has gone. Shit. Denying things was easier when I was the only person it affected.
Rochelle’s a vision in gold as she approaches with a tray of loaded-up drinks in a rainbow of colors. “We’ve got cocktails,” the blue, “mocktails,” in green, “and not an ounce of judgment for whatever your preference is. That doesn’t just go for the drinks either.”
Briefly, I remember the message Morgan sent me earlier today.
Morgan: I’m tipsy at lunch on a Tuesday. how does anyone survive without vodka lol
I grab a mocktail and hand a second to Sebastian.
After a slightly awkward round of introductions, Damon slips into the DJ booth and Sebastian herds me to a table for two.
Somehow, I’m already halfway through my apple concoction, and I’ve managed to twist the straw so it adequately resembles my stomach right now.
“Bee.”
