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“Split when I was little. Last I heard, she’s in Arizona. I don’t really know, and I don’t really care.” It took a long time for that to be true, but it is now. She never gave a second thought about me, and thanks to therapy and years of absence, I’m finally able to return the favor.
His calm, steady gaze warms me as I try to tie together all the little pieces of my life.
“Lizzie wasn’t a big fan of Christmas. Or vacations. Or relationships. She threw everything into running the bar and didn’t have much time left over for anything else. But she taught me to stand up for myself and go after what I want. She taught me that it’s better to be on your own than go chasing after someone who’s just going to disappoint you. She was…” I shake my head, unsure how to put my stern, proud grandmother into words. “She was so tough.”
I’m painting a harsh picture of Lizzie, so I add, “But she was also incredibly fun. Just such a weird sense of humor. She’s the one who put Miss Gouda up on the bar and added to her outfit over the years.”
“She did a great job with that.” His brows draw together for this next bit. “So she’s…”
He already knows the answer I’m going to give, but he asks it anyway. I appreciate that clarity amid the wave of grief.
“She died in March. She left the bar to me.” I roll to my back and say this next part to the ceiling. “I hadn’t seen her in almost three months. Too busy at grad school to get back home over spring break.”
Sebastian starts to reach for me, then pulls back. “I’m so sorry, Birdy.”
“Thanks. It sucks.” I twist my head, and his eyes are practically liquid in the low light of the room, all sadness and understanding. “The estate finally settled out last month, and I had to decide what to do with it. Lizzie told me I could sell it or keep it, whatever would give me the life I wanted. So I was in Burlington this weekend to sell it.”
The agony of that decision is still sharp. I decided to say goodbye to the life we shared, but I did it to open myself up to something new.
“That night we met was my final night bartending there. I stopped by the next morning to grab Miss Gouda, then I went to the title company to sign the paperwork. After that, it was straight to the airport. The rest you know.”
After a moment, he nods. “Well that explains the crying.”
I groan and bury my face in my hands, grateful for the lightness in his tone. “I’m really sorry I freaked you out.” My voice emerges muffled through my fingers. “I just couldn’t bring myself to sleep at Lizzie’s that night. It didn’t smell like her anymore after all those years of it being home. It made me so sad. And then you came along.”
I turn to smile at him, but his face has gone slack.
“Oh.” He blinks. “I see.” After a beat, he sits up and grabs his phone from the foot of the bed, where he left it. “It's getting late,” he says, eyes on the screen. “We should get some sleep.”
“Sure,” I say hesitantly. “It was a long day.”
I climb off his bed, feeling awkward as hell about the abrupt end of our conversation, but Sebastian just crawls under the covers and rolls so his back is to me, leaving me to turn off the room lights.
I do, saving the lamp between our beds for last as I slide between my sheets. They’re cold without Sebastian’s big body to warm them.
“Good night,” I say quietly as I click off the lamp and plunge the room into darkness.
He doesn’t respond, although a few seconds later, his voice floats through the darkness. “I’m sorry about your grandmother.”
“Thanks,” I say in a scratchy voice
What the hell? There’s no way I can fall asleep like this, not after I had my hands all over his body and then he shut me out. But a quick replay of our conversation gives me a strong inkling of what went wrong.
“Hey. Captain,” I say into the dark. “Did I hurt your feelings?”
“No.”
His answer’s so terse it’s almost funny. I sit up and flip the lamp back on. “Sebastian,” I say in a light reprimand.
He sits up too, scowling in the light. “So any guy would’ve done?”
His mouth’s set in such a sulky line that I have to laugh. “Isthatwhat you took from all of that?”
Instead of answering, his jaw tightens, and he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Just so we’re clear,” I say, “I wasn’t planning to go home withanyonethat night. I was going to suck it up and spend one last night at Lizzie’s until you wandered into my bar.”
The corners of his lips tighten. “Lucky me.”
