“Food is perfectly safe with me, as long as it cooperates and doesn’t get in my way.”
He looked me up and down, his eyes the color of caramel. “Not everything is afraid of getting in your way. Some might even step in front of you just to get your attention.”
My pulse skittered like I was eighteen again. His deep cologne tickled my nose, and I didn’t like it.
He smelled delicious. I just didn’t like that I liked it.
I pulled the tray out without breaking eye contact from him. His mouth tipped up as he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip.
“I’d be careful where you step. A bomb like me, you never know when I’ll explode.”
I turned with my plate, and Seb blocked my path. Logically, I knew he was screwing around, but my lizard brain immediately felt trapped between him and the fridge. I stepped back, sucking in air, my heart suddenly beating faster.
His eyes softened, his face lined with concern as he stepped aside.
“Lydia, you okay? I was just fucking with you.”
I swallowed down my visceral reaction and schooled my features. “What are you on about? People are showing up, Seb. I’m trying to finish my job. Move.”
“I did, little wild. You just haven’t walked away.” There was that stupid smirk again. Smaller than before, not quite reaching his eyes.
I turned in a huff, putting the platter on the counter and catching Scarlett’s eye. She looked between Seb and me meaningfully, so I narrowed my gaze to get the point across.
Absolutely not. Sure, he smelled fantastic. He was funny and annoyingly charming in some people’s opinions. But he was still the guy wo had played me for a fool.
Luke and Scarlett decided to keep the gender reveal party small, only inviting immediate family and a couple of close friends. There probably wasn’t twenty people total. Instead of the cake idea that was originally tossed around, Scarlett had sent the results to a company that made nesting dolls with the final doll being the gender of the baby.
I had made a plate of food and was leaning against the counter when I felt his eyes on me. Seb sat across the room in a chair, his stare trained on me. He wasn’t smiling and laughing with the rest of them—and Seb was always laughing, even when I was giving him attitude—and I didn’t like having his attention on me with that serious expression on his face. I kept his eye contact like it was a battle, when in reality, I couldn’t look away if I tried.
He stood up quickly, making his way over to where the food was laid out, right toward me.
“Why are you hanging out over here? There are plenty of people to talk to. You don’t have to stand here by yourself,” he said, making himself a plate of food.
“And you don’t have to come over here and lecture me, yet here we are.”
He stood next to me by the counter, shoulder to shoulder, and shoveled a large bite of potato salad into his mouth. When he finished chewing, he took a breath, and I knew he had something else he wanted to say.
“What’s your problem, Lydia? You too good for us small-town folks now that you’ve been in the big city for over a decade, living out your dreams?”
“You know that’s not it, Seb,” I said harshly. “Do you think it’s easy being back here where everywhere I look, everywhere I go, there is someone else who probably high-fived you and laughed about how you managed to be the first guy to get in my pants?”
His jaw clenched, but before I could blink, his cocky smirk was back. He didn’t bother looking at me, instead still facing out toward the rest of the gathering.
“If I remember correctly, and trust me, I do, you weren’t wearing any pants for me to get into.”
I shot him a mean glare that had him huffing out a laugh. His face straightened though, and when he did turn to look at me, he almost looked offended.
“And I don’t know what makes you think that people were talking about us at all. I don’t know about you, but I never told a soul about us. Nobody else’s fucking business.”
“Oh, please. What about Tommy Riscuto and everyone who was there that night?”
Seb turned around and crossed his thick arms over his chest.
“I pushed him off a dock the second he mentioned you and bought him a case of the cheapest beer I could find for histrouble.”
I was so lost. I had run to New York City so fast. I couldn’t get out of Calla Bay fast enough, and now he was telling me that no one knew? No one was laughing at me behind my back, calling me a whore or worse, looking at me with the same pity I saw after my mom died.
“But Sunday Jones…”
