Page 91 of Reckless Hearts
Shit. I hadn’t realized how well he could read me.
He’s staring at me, concern etched on his forehead.
Seb is just so…good. And if I was equally as good, I would leave him alone.
But I miss him.
I want him.
They’re such unfamiliar emotions.
Seb’s insight reminds me why I keep everyone at a distance. Even Saskia, my closest friend. After all these years, she still only knows the outer shell of me.
But now, something about his earnest gaze makes me want to be real, to share some of my doubts and fears.
“I guess I’m just worried about whether I’m up to playing this part. I mean, it’s opposite Peter Beauford.” I force myself to huff out a laugh. “Beauford could probably convince an audience he’s a teapot if he wanted to. I’m just trying not to look like a complete fraud next to him.”
If people don’t believe I can be a convincing match-making Martian, how can I be an eighteenth-century Icelandic farmer?
Seb sits up straighter, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Are you kidding me, Marcus? You’re an incredible actor.”
His words are soothing, but panic flashes through me.
I make my voice smooth. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but let’s be real—my most convincing performance to date is pretending I understand what the scientific puns on your T-shirts mean.”
“I’m serious, Marcus,” Seb says.
“Yeah, I know. I recognize your serious face.” I keep my tone joking.
Seb rolls his eyes but lets me off the hook. “I’m so jealous you get to go to Iceland,” he says. “The geology of the country is amazing.”
“Have you ever been?” I ask.
“No. I would love to go some time though.”
“Do you want to come and visit me while I’m there?”
The words fall out of me without thinking. They’re impulsive, reckless, but the moment the offer leaves my lips, I realize how much I want it to happen.
Seb’s eyes widen. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words.
His throat works for a few seconds.
“Sure. I’d love to come. But are you sure you can cope with all the nerdy scientific facts about geothermal activity I’ll share with you?” he says finally.
“I think I can handle it,” I say softly.
21
Seb
As my plane approaches Keflavík International Airport, the flight map on the tiny screen in front of me shows our plane inching across a blue expanse. It looks like a very slow-moving sperm approaching the egg that is Iceland.
Oh god, did I really just think that?
This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to make analogies after forty-three hours of travel.
A logical argument could be made that this is a long way to travel for a booty call. Iceland is literally on the other side of the earth to New Zealand.
