“MissTabitha Clarke?” I nodded my reply and he smiled kindly. “Merry Christmas,ma’am. I’m here to drive you and Greyson to Mr. Moore’s residence.”
Flabbergasted,I stared at him for one, two seconds. Blinking and stunned. “Uh, th-thank youvery much, but I think I can—”
“Mr.Moore gave me very specific instructions to not let you talk me out of takingyou to his home,” the driver interrupted apologetically, turning down thecorners of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh,he did, huh?” I grumbled, crossing my arms and shaking my head.
Greysonshrugged and grabbed his coat, leading Dweezil past the driver and to the sleekblack car parked in the driveway. I was tempted to refuse, to call Sebastianand tell him he had absolutely no right to demand I doanythingagainstmy will.
“Mr.Moore told me you might be a little hesitant, so he wanted me to tell you that,um …” The driver pursed his lips and inhaled deeply. “That you should just getyour gorgeous ass in the car and trust him.” Then he winced and added, “Hiswords, not mine.”
“Yeah,I bet they are,” I muttered begrudgingly. But still, I was unable to fight thesmile pulling at my lips.
***
“We’rejust about there,” Ted, the driver, announced.
Huh? Sebastian’shouse was roughly a few hours away from mine. I knew I had spaced out a bit,scrolling through my phone and chatting idly with Greyson, but could I havereally lost entire hours of my life in what only felt like twenty minutes?
Iglanced out the window to find that we weren’t far from home. In fact, we were justoff of Hog Hill’s tiny main street, driving through the wealthier side of town.A realization crept over me, but acceptance wasn’t yet catching up withreality. I laid a hand over my mouth as the car came to a stop outside of thehouse.
“Allright, here we are,” Ted said with a smile. “I’ll just grab your bags from theback and carry them in.”
“Grey,”I managed to say through my clenched throat as I stared out the window.
“Yeah?”He turned to me, his lips upturned in a mischievous smile.
“Didyouknow about this?”
Heshrugged smugly. “Maybe.” He didn’t wait for my reply as he got out of the car,leading Dweezil up the walkway to the familiar porch.
Iwas hesitating, my hand resting on the door handle. I was too stunned, tooshocked to react with anything but a blank stare toward the house I thought I’dnever step foot in again. Not after Alex had sold it, and …
“OhGod,” I uttered, shaking my head. “Fucking Alex.”
Hehad known, and I didn’t know if I should go straight to his house and kiss him,or beat him senseless for allowing me to believe it was completely gone.
Withthe packages under his arm and green bean casserole in his hands, Ted knockedon the window, breaking me out of my shock-induced paralysis. I pushed the dooropen and he asked, “Are you ready, ma’am?”
Iwanted to tell him that there was no way I was ever going to be ready to facethe grandest of gestures, but I knew I also couldn’t sit in that car forever.So, I nodded and put on a brave smile, hoping I could keep it in place.
***
“Tabby!”Ronnie, Sebastian’s mother, called the moment I stepped into the foyer. “MerryChristmas, honey. Can I take your coat?”
“Uh,y-yeah, sure,” I said, flashing her a weak smile.
Islid my arms from the sleeves and allowed her to hurry off as I surveyed theroom. God, it looked the same, but of course it did. It hadn’t been that long sinceI was last here, and yet, it felt like forever. Mrs. Worthington’s belongingswere gone, replaced with things from Sebastian’s old house hours away.
Whenthe fuck did he have the time to move? He hadn’t been home. He’d been on tour.When did he manage to accomplish all of this? How did I never catch on?
Thequestions were abundant, and they dizzied my mind as I tightened my arms aroundmyself, strolling into the living room to greet Sebastian’s brothers-in-lawwith hugs and forced smiles.
“Hey,Tabby, good to see you again,” they each seemed to say, and to each I replied,“Yeah, you too. Merry Christmas.” It was all I could manage, when the place wasalready starting to lose the floral smell of Mrs. Worthington, adopting thescents of leather, sandalwood, and man.
Sebastian’sdad, John, stopped me on the way to the kitchen. “Merry Christmas, young lady,”he greeted me with a one-armed hug, a beer occupying his other hand. “How doyou like Bastian’s new digs?”
Ichuckled awkwardly, raising my eyes to the vaulted ceilings. “Uh, well, it’s,um …” An emotional blockade jammed my words, and I swallowed. “It’s verysurprising.”
