“I should probably take this,” he says, setting down his hand of cards and getting to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, forcing a smile. “I think I’ll head up to my room anyway. I should shower.”
He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say, trying to sound casual as I start gathering up all the cards and unceremoniously shoving them back into the box. “See you later.”
He gives me a small smile and heads toward the front doors to take the call outside, where the rain has already stopped. I watch him go, my heart sinking.
With a sigh, I head toward the elevators. I’m so distracted by my own thoughts that I walk headlong into another person.
“Whoa, there.” A man grabs my shoulders to steady me, and I look up into a pair of startlingly familiar blue eyes.
Oh. My. God.
“Seb—” The word comes out in a breathless exhale.
I can’t believe it. Is it possible that somewhere between the couch and the elevator bank, I simply passed out and am now having some sort of ex-fiancé-related nightmare?
Sebastian Wallace-Conway. Broad chest, sandy-blond hair,rucksack slung over his shoulder. The last time I saw his face was… well, technically it was in his little profile picture on his Instagram account when we were messaging two days ago.
And now he is somehow here, in the flesh.
“What are youdoinghere?”
He flashes his trademark grin. “I told you I was coming.” His blue eyes twinkle.
“What?”Am I hallucinating this conversation?
“I took a puddle jumper, like you said. Thought I’d come visit an old friend.”
I’m still not really following… “You what?”
“Besides, all that talk about being alone at the beach? I knew you wanted company.”
Oh my god. He was serious about that?
I’m still barely comprehending the situation, but seeing him here now, in a rumpled linen shirt and khaki pants with his blond hair ruffled by the sea breeze and his blue eyes still as bright as sapphires, it all feels familiar. I remember the addictive rush of all the highs and lows with Sebastian. Grand romantic gestures to spackle over the disappointments.
I’ve lost myself in my thoughts again and don’t notice Jamie and Genevieve walking toward us until they’re almost upon us.
Genevieve has a huge smile on her face. “Sybil! This must be the boyfriend!” she exclaims, with something that, dare I say it, sounds a little like relief.
“The boy—” Jamie starts to repeat with a confused look on his face. But he stops mid-word when he recognizes the man I’m standing next to. Jamie looks from me to Sebastian and back again. They’ve never met, but Jamie obviously knows who Sebastian is. We did the whole “postmortem of exes” thingafter two months of dating. When I showed Jamie Sebastian’s picture, he gave a cocky little half smile and said, “This guy? He looks like an Indiana Jones wannabe.” I’d giggled along with him, even though part of me had felt his assessment was a bit unfair.
But there’s no confident smirk on Jamie’s face right now. He looks completely blindsided. Not to mention, I’m sure he’s wildly confused. He knows Seb is a photographer, not a marine biologist.
“We’ve heard all about you,” Genevieve is saying to Seb. “Your research sounds really interesting.”
“Hi,” he says, gamely shaking their hands, because that’s just what Seb does. Goes along to get along. It’s always been his way; it’s why he has friends all over the planet, in at least three dozen different countries. “My research?” he adds.
“He really is diversifying!” I say, brightly—almost hysterically—“We were just heading out, right, Seb?!” I’m basically shouting, though in the back of my throat I kind of feel like I’m about to cry or maybe even scream.
“But Syb, what’s—” Seb starts.
Which is when I do the first stupid thing that comes to mind, and kiss him.
12
