Page 78 of Carry On
“Jesus fuck, Lincoln.” Sebastian let out a frustrated huff of air. “Are you really not going to give me anything?”
Okay, I could recognize the fact that I was being intentionally difficult due to my own irritability. This was what I got for drinking on a work night.
“I’m sorry,” I said. As I spoke, I picked up walking again, heading straight toward the coffee shop. “I drank a little too much last night, so I’m grumpy.”
“Well, you look like shit,” he replied with a chuckle.
“You’re so kind,” I muttered. “Yes, I got married.”
“Why?”
“Because I love him,” I lied. Mostly. I wasn’t sure I loved Nash—not by a long shot. Hell, I wasn’t sure I was capable of loving someone again. There weredefinitely complicated feelings involved of all kinds, but I wasn’t ready to touch on that. I could acknowledge the connection, but I didn’t want to delve any further into it. “It was fast—”
“How fast?”
“—but I knew him back in Pine Creek,” I continued over him. For all of a few minutes, but who was counting? The drunken part of me the night before had wondered what it would’ve been like if I’d done more than shake his hand or pay his bar bill. I kept those as drunken thoughts and did my damnedest not to think about that shit. They were ridiculous thoughts. “We reconnected, and it just took a life of its own.”
“How fast?” Sebastian repeated.
“Six months.” That was the lie we’d agreed on. Fast, but not too fast. Okay, well, not too fast for normal people. For me, anything would be considered fast by the people who knew me.
“Six months!” he exclaimed. “Are you fucking crazy?”
And here came the tirade about what was I thinking? Did I really know this guy? Did I understand how I was setting myself up to repeat the last whirlwind romance I’d had?
This part, I’d steeled myself for. I knew how the people in my life would react to me getting married, especially so suddenly. No amount of explanation could fix that. So, I let him say his piece.
To be honest, I didn’t listen to a single fucking word because I knew everything he’d say. It showed when he held the coffee shop door closed and cut me off.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” Sebastian demanded. The expression on my face gave me away long before I said anything. “Jesus Christ, Lincoln. I want to meet him.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“Really?” The surprise on his face made me chuckle.
“Yes, really. It’s not like I’m hiding him.” Though knowing Nash, he would’ve preferred that I did.
“Well, look,” Sebastian opened the cafe door, “Milo’s in town—something about needing a break from his latest manuscript. Fuck if I know.”
I grinned. Sebastian’s little brother was a gay romance author of all things. Personally, I was a big fan. I had signed copies of all of his books and some art that I’d never let Nash find.
“Beers and brats?” he continued. “There’s that bar we used to go to—”
“Oh, the one sports one?”
“Yeah, the sports one.”
We hated the sports bar, but there was no denying they had damn good brats, cheap beer, and no limit to the drama that could take place. Hopefully, Nash would enjoy it just as much.
CHAPTER 55
NASH
Frustrated,Ipushedthelaptop away from me. I hated the stupid thing and everything it stood for.
Another job opening, another realization that I didn’t fit.
Didn’t have the education.
