Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 34629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
My gaze gets stuck on Seb who’s staring at me with an intensity I’ve never seen directed at me.
For a moment, my heart stutters, and fear cuts through me. That annoying twink better not have been blurting his ridiculously true theory to anyone who will listen.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Cash jumps up from the couch. “Locke and I will take dinner duty tonight.”
“Do you even know how to cook?” I ask.
“Hey, you forget I was a struggling musician for years. I know my way around a kitchen.”
“Yes, but I was hoping for more than ramen.”
Locke stands. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”
“How long until dinner?” Jasper asks.
“When it’s ready!” Cash yells back.
Seconds later, both Jasper and Greg disappear back upstairs with their women. I get the feeling we’ll barely see those four all vacation, and I’m totally okay with that.
That leaves Seb and me.
Oh, and Lemon.
“What did I miss?” that bouncy, annoying voice asks as he bounds into the room.
“Cash and Locke are cooking dinner, and the others are … busy,” I say and don’t take my eyes off Seb.
He’s still staring at me, and I have no doubt Lemon has been running his mouth.
“I’m going to go back outside and relight the fire.” I need to get out of here. Though after my excursion today, I know not to leave the house.
When Mason was driving me back, I couldn’t believe how far I’d walked.
Anything could’ve happened. If it had started snowing and the road got completely covered in white, I could’ve actually gotten lost.
But it’s impossible to be in the same room as Seb and Lemon without getting irrationally jealous, so I need to do something.
I throw my warmer jacket back on, as well as my beanie, gloves, and scarf, and head out to the fire pit.
The sun is starting to set, and it’s going to be even colder soon.
The fire from earlier is nothing but charred wood, and I realize I should’ve told the guys to try to keep the fire going so we didn’t lose it. Now I have to start all over again.
I get more firewood from the pile Mason left for us and arrange them in a peak with kindling underneath. It takes a few tries to get the actual wood lit for it to burn properly, but then it ignites, and I’m happy I don’t have to give up and go back inside where they are. I guess I could hide in my room if it comes down to it.
I stand by the fire and wrap myself in one of the blankets, watching the sky turn a billion different colors as the sun slowly disappears.
The loneliness tries to overwhelm me, but I push it back down.
I’ve been out here for maybe half an hour when I hear the door behind me click open, and I freeze. I don’t need to turn to know who it is, and I really, really, really don’t want to do this.
Seb appears at my side, and no matter how many times I tell myself to keep staring at the flickering flames as the fire grows, I know it’s impossible. My gaze gravitates to him like it always does.
His eyes are weary, and he looks exhausted. “So Andrew has this crazy theory.”
So he has been running his mouth.
“I heard. Your boy toy is obviously on drugs. Lots and lots of them.”
Seb huffs, and a puff of steam comes out his mouth. “I thought so too.”
I turn back to the fire. “Glad we cleared that up. Good talk. You can go back inside now.”
Please, please, please stop torturing me like this. I want to tell him everything. I want to break down and confess how much I’ve been in love with him these last couple of years, but I can’t. I’m not ready to put everything on the line. Maybe after the tour I can take a step back and ask for time off to decide what I want to do and how I want to do it. The band needs to be in a position to find a new manager without having to worry about completing show dates on a tight schedule with no one to make sure they’re where they’re supposed to be and when.
“Yeah, I’m not going back inside,” Seb says. “I realized something today.”
“What’s that?”
He moves in closer, and I find myself holding my breath.
“I want him to be right,” Seb whispers.
My heart stutters.
I swallow hard.
I can’t look at him as I ask, “What, so you can mock me about it?”
He ignores my accusation and keeps talking. “At first I thought he was crazy.”
I scoff. “Insane.”
“But things like that. Right there.”
Finally, I turn to him. “What things?”
“Your go-to defense mechanism when you want to put distance between us. You do this thing where you emphasize a point like you want to believe what you’re saying. You get this look in your eye like you’re scared I’ll figure out the truth. Every time there’s a scandal about us in the tabloids, you act like you are right now. And you’ve been looking at me like that ever since I turned up with a stripper. I thought it was a media problem, but now …”