Truerwords had never been spoken.
Iwasn’t surprised that, sixteen years ago, my sister had met a rocker withtattoos, long hair and ripped jeans, and had a one-night stand. It’s what shedid back then, before having Greyson forced her to slow down a little. But whatsurprised me was that this guystillhad the long hair and ripped jeans.I guess there wasn’t much he could do about the tattoos painting his arms andGod knows where else, but there wasn’t much to separate this man from a boy.
WhatI hated even more, was how good he made it look, howeasy. How it wassimply a part of who he was, on the road or otherwise. Nothing had forced himto grow up. He was allowed to live in a permanent bubble of adolescence for allof eternity, with nothing but some fine lines at the corners of his eyes to giveaway the decades of life.
Iwas jealous. I hated being jealous.
“Okay,but seriously though, Tabs. Did you get a glimpse at his ass?” Jess stood inthe doorway of my office, gripping an energy drink in her palm.
“DoI need to remind you that you’re married?” I grumbled, dropping into my officechair and rifling through some papers on my desk.
“Myhusband doesn’t have an ass like that,” she reasoned, sipping her drink beforepursing her lips. “Doesn’t hurt to look, right? You think he’s single?”
“Ihave no idea, Jess.” I huffed my irritation and pulled out the guest list fromthe open house.
Elevenpeople in all had shown up to check out Mrs. Worthington’s house. Several hadshown a vague interest in it, and I thought at least a couple of them wouldcall today with an offer. None of them had. The phone had been silent all daysave for the call from Sebastian. All wasn’t lost, not yet, but the inkling ofhope was fading at a rapid pace.
“Ineed to sell this house,” I muttered to myself, forgetting momentarily thatJess was still in the doorway.
“Maybeyou could give it to Alex?” she offered gently, wincing apologetically. Sheknew how much I hated to give up, so much that I never had yet. But after morethan six months of trying to sell the damn place, I guess she knew as well as Ithat the clock was ticking. Sooner rather than later, I’d have to admit defeat.
“Maybe,”I agreed reluctantly. “I just can’t understand what’s wrong with this place. I don’tget it.”
“It’sa beautiful house,” Jess sympathized with a slight shake of her head. “I’doffer to give it a shot but—”
Jessdidn’t like selling the old homes. There was more convincing involved that shecould never handle. Bargaining wasn’t her strong point, and because of this,she stuck with new construction.
“No,it’s okay,” I released a rueful sigh and checked the clock on the wall. “Iguess I should head down to the freakin’ coffee shop.”
Ihated the tone of my voice. I should’ve been grateful that this guy, a totalstranger, had driven all this way to meet with me. I just couldn’t shake thatI’d expected so much more from the attractive voice on the phone. Like someinitial semblance of maturity upon meeting.
“Okay,”Jess nodded, heading back to her desk as I stood up to grab my purse. “Don’tcome back pregnant, okay? Although if you did—”
Groaningunder my breath, I left my office, sliding my bag over my shoulder. “You reallyhave no idea how unfunny that really is.”
“I’mjust saying, that guy could easily impregnate me by justglancingin mydirection,” she defended, holding her hands in front of her chest as she satdown. “That’sallI’m saying.”
***
Sebastiansat on one of the coffee shop’s puffy leather couches, his knees spread as faras they would go, tapping his fingers against his thigh while scrolling throughhis phone. I pinched my eyes closed, held my head high and made the decision,once and for all, to be nice.
Walkingthrough the door, I approached him with confidence, outstretching my hand andinclining my head. “Sebastian.”
Atthe sound of his name, he turned his head and stood up to reach out and graspmy hand. “Tabby,” he greeted me with a nod of his head, squeezing my palm inhis. Just firm enough to be assertive and strong. “Sorry about that before.”
Iallowed myself a search of his eyes, seeking sincerity in his gaze and findingit within the melted chocolate pools of his irises. “It’s okay,” I replied, mygaze unwavering. “Let’s sit.”
Releasingmy hand from his, he waited as I sat down, shocking me with the gentlemanlygesture. I crossed my legs and reached toward the latte he had generouslybought for me.
“Thankyou,” I raised the cup to him as he sat beside me. Close enough for his knee tobrush against mine.
“Oh,”he shook his head, lifting a dismissive hand. “It’s fine.”
Takinga sip, I enjoyed a moment of refreshing silence. A chance to quickly rehearsemy next words, and allow myself a few seconds to fall into the calm of theacoustic café music.
“Thisis a fucking great song,” Sebastian blurted, tearing me from my serene coffeemoment.
Witha harsh swallow, I put the mug back on the table. “I don’t know it.”
