tabby
“Are you excited?”I asked Mrs. Worthington.
“Excitedfor what, honey?”
Thewoman had been trying to sell her house for nearly a year, and now that we wereclose to finalizing the deal, she couldn’t remember what there was to beexcited about?
Isighed, laughing softly. “The sale.”
“Oh.”Mrs. Worthington tightened her lips, clicking her knitting needles together asSandy scurried across the living room floor. “Of course, honey.”
Iwas skeptical of her response, but continued, “I’m thinking we’ll be closing bythe end of August.”
“Mm-hmm,”she nodded, only half-listening as Mozart played his symphony on the old recordplayer.
Isighed, resting into the armchair as my phone chimed for what felt like thefiftieth time that day, and of course, it was Sebastian. I wasn’t intending toignore him. With every text that came through, I made a mental note to replylater, and later would come and go, taking with it the courage to reply.
Ididn’t know how to be honest with him about Roman, about our kiss. Hell, Ididn’t know if I needed to be honest at all. Was it any of Sebastian’s businessthat we had kissed, or that I had enjoyed it? It wasn’t the same, that was forsure, but it had been sweet and pleasant. But it wasn’t without guilt, as I hadhoped, and I wondered if maybe that also played into my reluctance to talk toSebastian.
Witha pull of bravery into my lungs, I lifted my phone to read his messages.
Sebastian: Hey,so I was talking to Devin and Kylie and they wanted to get together thisweekend. They told me to bring a date, and since I don’t know anybody else, Ifigured I’d ask you.
Sebastian:You ARE still planning on coming this weekend, right?
Sebastian:Because I could ask one of my sisters, that’s cool, but I figured if you werearound, you’d like to come. I mean, fancy dinner in the city. Who doesn’t lovethat shit, right?
Ihad to stare at the texts for a few minutes, reading them multiple times toanalyze and dissect them until they made sense. Was he asking me on a date? Orwas it simply that he needed someone to go with him, to avoid being the thirdwheel? Sebastian didn’t seem like the type of guy who cared about being the loner,he’d find fun wherever he went. But, on the other hand, I knew Devin and Kyliewere a married couple who might feel more comfortable double-dating, as opposedto hanging out with a bachelor and some one-night stand.
Me:Yeah, sure, it sounds like fun. What should I wear?
Sebastian: Nothing.HAHAHA. God, I’m funny. No, for real, don’t worry about it, Thumbelina. I’llhandle this shit.
Me:Uh, excuse me? You’re not deciding what I wear.
Sebastian:Why? You don’t trust me?
Me:I probably shouldn’t.
Sebastian:Okay, how about this? Bring your own dress. Something nice, just in case youdon’t like what I pick out. That way, you’ll have options. Sound good?
Me:Yeah. Okay. I guess I can handle that.
WhenI put the phone down on the arm of the chair, Mrs. Worthington glanced up fromher knitting and asked, “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing,”I lied.
Thetruth was, it’d been several days since I had smiled, and it felt good.
Free,even.
***
When Iarrived at Sebastian’s house that weekend, I carried my garment bag up thewalkway and to the porch, preparing myself to tell him that Roman and I were makingan attempt at dating.Realdating. Not casual sex, not feistyflirtation, but the potential for a real relationship. I knew Sebastian and Icould be friends, I enjoyed his company, but this … what we were doing …
Itwasn’t working anymore, not when there was something else on the horizon, and Icouldn’t help that.
Itjust is.
