Page 129 of True Blue

“Another thing we have in common then,” I say, clinking my glass against his. “You’re just trying to get me in your bed, huh?”

Sebastian tilts his head back and forth, leaning even closer to me, dropping his voice to a purr.

“No, Indie, I’m trying to tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in this lounge,” he leans in to whisper in my ear. “And I’m dying to get a taste between your legs.”

It’s bold.

And I consider the offer for a brief moment. Sebastian is attractive, clearly. A little full of himself, but he’s a barrister and obviously makes good money from the expensive watch on his wrist, the Italian leather shoes on his feet, the suit, the expensive cologne, and the diamond cufflinks.

Not that I’m planning a relationship with him—I’ve done the sex only thing before, it’s never bothered me—but I’ve never done the sex only thing while I was still in love with someone else.

Sebastian takes my silence a certain way because suddenly his face is right in front of mine, his hand—too small from what I’m used to—cupping my cheek.

His gaze drops to my lips before lifting back to my eyes, his breath against my lips, pausing for a moment, and giving me just enough time to stop him.

I don’t.

Because maybe I need to see.

His mouth is on mine.

There’s no beard scratching my cheeks. The lips are too soft, too small, too wrong. The scent of him is wrong. The taste of him—gin—not whiskey, is all wrong.

Then I feel angry, because why is he wrong?

My heart answers for me.

Because he’s not Teddy.

And that’s the thought that makes me feel defiant… and maybe even a little desperate. I lean in to kiss him back. Just a bit more pressure, my lips moving against his for a second, like I can make this feel right if I try hard enough.

A glass shatters from somewhere in the room, but I don’t pull away to see. I just try to focus on the lips on mine.

Too soft, too small, wrong-tasting lips. Sebastian opens his mouth to deepen it, and it’s like a rubber band snapping back into place.

It’s not just Teddy, it’s that I’m forcing myself to do this to make a point. And that’s the most wrong about it. I’m not going to use someone else to get over the man who broke my heart.

That’s not what this trip is about. This trip is about me. And I don’t want to do this.

I flinch back abruptly, making Sebastian’s eyes snap open.

We both freeze, looking shocked.

“I am so sorry,” I say, feeling so embarrassed.

Sebastian doesn’t look pissed, or annoyed, or even mildly irritated, like I expected, like I’ve experienced before in previous men I’ve dated.

“No,” he rushes to say, looking genuinely concerned now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I thought you⁠—”

“I wanted to try, but I just⁠—”

“Indie, stop—you don’t need to explain. It was my fault⁠—”

“—not your fault. I’m just still hung up on⁠—”

We both realize we’ve been apologizing over each other and stop, before bursting into laughter.

I bury my face in my hands and groan. “What a mess.”