Page 33 of Reckless Hearts
But I stop myself.
Instead, I give him a half-smile, which I’m fairly sure is mostly a grimace, as I move past him.
Shit.
That look of hope on Seb’s face…
I have the potential to hurt him. And I don’t want that on my conscience.
I have enough things there as it is.
This is my fault. I started this by hooking up with him after Saskia upset me. And now we’re here with a simmering attraction between us that isn’t going away.
The problem is my attraction isn’t just physical anymore.
Which means I really need to stop this. Now.
After I stagger back to the living room, I grab my phone and start thumbing through my contacts.
Last time I was in Queenstown, I hooked up with a cute French bartender called Louis. We had a fun night together though I barely remember the details now, just fragments of skilled hands and whispered French endearments that lost their meaning by morning.
I need him to come out with us tonight. I need a buffer between Seb and me.
Because I don’t trust myself around Seb and his hopeful eyes.
I can explain away twice as a mistake, but a third time would turn it into a pattern.
After a decent amount of preloading,we head into town.
The pub is crowded with tourists and locals alike, all vying for the bartenders’ attention.
We queue up for drinks, then manage to find a free booth in the back. Saskia and I slide into one side of the booth while John and Neets squeeze in next to Seb on the other side.
I don’t pay much attention to the conversation swirling around me. Instead, I watch the door.
And there he is. Louis. He’s all lean muscle and sharp angles, with a dragon tattoo that snakes up his neck, its scales catching the light. His crisp white shirt under a leather jacket marks him as a tourist. Kiwi guys just don’t have the same sense of style.
He glances around, his eyes fixing on me, and a predatory smirk comes over his face.
“Marcus.” Louis greets me with a kiss on my cheek, sliding into the booth next to me. He’s wearing an overpowering cologne, and the scent of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes.
“Hey, you,” I give him a flirty wink. “Everyone, this is Louis.”
And fuck, the look on Seb’s face now is exactly why I’ve done this. He looks like a wounded puppy.
“I think I recognize you from seeing you sneak out of my place a few months ago,” Saskia says.
Louis snaps his fingers at her. “The girl who was making pancakes and offered me coffee, right?”
Saskia laughs. “Yep, that’s me. You looked like you needed some nourishment.”
Louis sneaks me a dirty smile. “I definitely did after that night.”
“I think we both did,” I say, and John gives a low wolf-whistle.
I avoid looking at Seb.
“I’ll go get a drink,” Louis says. “I’ll be right back.”
