Page 89 of Reckless Hearts
Sorry, I’ve just arrived at the hotel.
No worries, I’m sure premiere parties wait for no man.
Message me when you get home and we can video call. A fun one, maybe?
He sends me a smiley face in return.
I put my phone on my lap, and my head falls back onto the seat.
What am I doing?
I’m not someone Seb should be wasting his time on. There is no future for Seb and me.
But I can’t stop messaging him. Every time I think about not replying, I remember the expression on his face when he said goodbye to me.
I can’t do anything to hurt Seb. I refuse to be that person.
But by encouraging this thing between us, am I potentially setting him up for more hurt long-term?
Talking to Seb makes me feel a complex mix of happiness and hope. Something I haven’t felt for such a long time.
But I think of what Seb just said about de-extinction.
You can never bring back the past.
“You ready for this?” Erica asks.
I plaster on my smooth smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
As I get out of the limousine, a crowd of paparazzi is waiting, shouting questions and demands for poses. I square my shoulders and stride forward. Show time yet again.
I spendthree hours at the after-party, during which I navigate a sea of air kisses, dodge paparazzi disguised as waiters, andpolitely decline offers to join a “private party” in the penthouse suite that I’m pretty sure is code for an orgy.
I also find myself being propositioned by Xavier Newton, the Australian star of the hit superhero franchiseTemporal Titans, who seems offended I don’t want to go home with him. To be fair, it is potentially the first time he’s ever been turned down by a guy.
After I get home, I pull off my tuxedo tie and kick off my shoes. But I don’t get changed out of the rest of my tux. Seb seems to have a thing for me when I’m dressed up, and following his husky orders to undress is incredibly sexy.
When my phone beeps, I grab at it.
But it’s not Seb. It’s a message from his sister instead.
Before Fiji, Saskia was the person I messaged the most.
I promised myself I wouldn’t be one of those friends who forgets all about their other friends when they get married.
But I’ve had this massive case on my desk, and it’s taken up nearly every brain cell.
Fuck. Saskia’s blaming herself for the lack of communication between us recently.
I’ve hardly noticed we haven’t been chatting as much as normal because I’ve been so wrapped up in messaging Seb.
That’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to strain your remaining brain cells by remembering your best friend.
Way to make me feel epically guilty.
Actually, of the two of us, I’m probably the one feeling the guiltiest right now.
It’s yet another talent I have.
