Page 69 of Reckless Hearts
I wonder what changes he notices in me?
Because Seb’s watching me too. During the photo session, I strike a few playful poses with the bridesmaids, eliciting giggles and blushes. Seb watches from the side, his expression a mix of amusement and something I can’t quite decipher. While the other guests clamor for selfies with me, Seb maintains his distance, content to observe.
The reception unfolds on a sprawling lawn overlooking the ocean.
A large open-air pavilion, its roof a canopy of twinkling lights, houses the bar and buffet. White-clothed tables are scattered across the grass, each adorned with elaborate centerpieces of exotic flowers.
“They say you know you’ve found the right person when being with them feels easier than being alone,” Saskia says in her speech. She gives Tom a beaming smile. “Love is about finding someone who feels like home, no matter where you are.”
I glance at Seb to find him watching me in return, and for a moment, it’s like everyone else fades away. He offers a small, almost shy smile before quickly averting his gaze. My heart does a complicated flip.
After our conversation this morning, it feels like I laid my soul bare. With other men, I’d worry they’d use my confession against me. But not Seb.
Saskia and Tom take to the dancefloor as the opening notes of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” fill the air. They move together with practiced ease, Tom leading Saskia in a waltz. Their eyes never leave each other as Elvis croons about rivers flowing and things that are meant to be.
After the first dance, Tom’s mother cuts in to dance with him and Saskia dances with her dad.
Saskia’s father has such a proud smile as he steers her around the dancefloor. A lump forms in my throat. I can’t begin to imagine what it would feel like to inspire that level of paternal pride.
Then it’s my turn to dance with the bride. I pull her close and sway gently. It’s a much more conservative dance than ones we’ve done in the past.
Saskia is giddy, champagne and excitement making her cheeks flushed, and her words tumble out in a happy rush.
“Today has been everything I always hoped for.”
“I’m glad. You deserve to have the wedding of your dreams,” I say.
The dancefloor is filling up, and I hand Saskia back to Tom and start to dance with Emily instead. I watch as Seb reluctantly allows himself to be pulled into a group dance with his relatives.
He’s definitely not a good dancer. He spins one of his young cousins around and then has to take evasive steps to avoid a collision with one of his aunts.
When the song ends, he glances up, catching me watching. Instead of blushing and looking away like he would have seven years ago, he holds my gaze.
I’m the one who has to tear my eyes away to force myself to focus on Emily, spinning her in a playful twirl, plastering on my most charming smile.
But as the music shifts to a slow ballad, the sudden emptiness inside me becomes unbearable.
I make my excuses to Emily and head to the restroom.
As I exit a stall, Seb enters the restroom. We nearly collide, our bodies inches apart in the narrow space. Seb’s cheeks are flushed, his curls slightly mussed from dancing. His tie is slightly undone and the top button of his shirt is open, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
Seb runs a hand through his hair, messing it up further.
I cross my arms, then uncross them, feeling oddly exposed under his gaze.
“Did you know that the average person spends about ninety-two days of their life on the toilet?” Seb asks.
I huff out a laugh.
Seb still has no game. And I still like that about him.
In fact, I think I like it even more now. I’ve spent so much time in Hollywood, surrounded by fake people and false compliments. Where every interaction feels like it’s a transaction. In contrast, Seb is just so…real.
His cheeks pink even more. “Sorry, that’s probably not appropriate wedding conversation.”
