The crowd murmured “good evening” in response.
“On behalf of Dog Ears Book Shop, the Seacroft Town Council, and the...” He was distracted by movement at the back of the room as Penny flailed wildly against the wall. Her bracelets jingled, sounding not entirely unlike a Christmas tree falling over, with hundreds of tiny glass ornaments crashing to the floor. The commotion was enough that the next word out of his mouth evaporated and fear shivered down his spine. On behalf of the store, the council and the—who was the third group? Little fireworks of panic went off in his stomach. Someone stretched out to grasp Penny’s frantically waving hand and pull it back down. Martin followed the motion and found the white-blond outline of Seb’s head.
Look at someone at the back of the room.
“On behalf of Dog Ears, the town council,” he tried again, “and the Seacroft Blues Festival organizing committee, we’d like to thank you for coming tonight. This event could not be possible without the efforts of a few important people, who I would like to take a moment to thank.”
By the time Mrs. Green joined him, he was weak and noodly.
Martin made his way quietly along the side of the crowd. He detoured to the bar and took a glass of wine, then grabbed a second one in case Seb wanted it. The wine wobbled in the glasses as his hands shook, but when he arrived, Penny, Tim, and Seb greeted him with enthusiastic congratulations. Seb took the glass with a smile while Penny clapped Martin on the back.
“Good job,” she hissed while Mrs. Green continued to speak. “You only looked like you were going to throw up twice.”
Martin gave her a wobbly smile, then jumped as someone’s hand slipped into his.
“You were great,” Seb said, twining his fingers around Martin’s.
The event wrapped up a little before ten. The winner of the silent auction was a middle-aged man who seemed very excited to receive Seb’s donated piece, a carving from a children’s book. A number of illustrated cats peered out indignantly at the observer.
Carol Anne refused to let Martin help them clean up, so he found himself standing in the middle of the bookshop a bit awkwardly, unsure what to do. He was too awake and energized to go home, but there really wasn’t much going on in Seacroft on a Thursday night.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Seb appeared at his shoulder. His bow tie was undone, and the top button of his shirt was open.
“I think you already are.” Martin grinned. Seb gave him a wink, then turned up the nearest aisle and made his way to the back of the shop. Martin followed him, winding their way up the stairs to the apartment.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Seb asked.
“Just a water.” He’d had a couple glasses of wine. He wasn’t drunk by any means, just in the warm soft moment where everything was relaxed.
Seb brought over two glasses and handed one to Martin, then sank onto the couch. Martin joined him, perching on the edge of the cushion.
“Cheers.” Seb held up his cup, and Martin clinked his own against it.
Seb took a long swallow from his glass before he set it down. “We get along pretty well, don’t we?”
Martin smiled at the remembered warmth of their hands linked together. “I think so.”
Seb picked at a piece of lint on his knee. “You know I don’t get along with my family.”
Martin blinked. Where did Seb’s family fit into this conversation?
“You’ve mentioned it.”
Seb took Martin’s hand in his again, tracing little circles around the palm. His lashes were as pale as the rest of him, fluttering down as he followed the movement of his thumb.
“There’s a party at my parents’ place next weekend. It’s my grandmother’s birthday, an overnight thing. First a dinner with my family, then a party the next day.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“You don’t know the half of it. My sister is planning it, so it’s going to make this event tonight look like a backwoods picnic. There will be more food and more booze than an entire village could eat in a month.”
“And you’re going to go?”
“I need a date.”
Martin gaped.
“Wanna go?” Seb ran his free hand through his hair.
