24. Indie #2
“It’s odd to say I enjoy it, but…” I trail off, shrugging.
“You enjoy it,” Sebastian says, studying me.
“I enjoy the patient connection. I enjoy helping people. I enjoy inspiring hope,” I say. “I obviously don’t enjoy giving people a sad diagnosis. I don’t enjoy the losses. I don’t enjoy the death that surrounds my job.”
“I bet you’re a fantastic doctor.”
“Thank you,” I say genuinely.
He smirks. “Do you get the Dr. Barbie comments a lot?”
“Sometimes,” I laugh, shaking my head. “But then I talk to people for five minutes.”
“Well, we’ve only been speaking for about three—what is going to change my mind in the next two?”
“You’ll probably realize how icy I am.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “You don’t seem icy to me.”
I take a long sip of my drink, taking my time before answering. “You don’t know me yet.”
“I’m trying to.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
“Original.”
“Truthful,” he smirks, sipping from his own drink.
The energy between us should feel charged.
I’ve done this song and dance before, the flirting.
It’s like putting on a mask for me, playing the role of seductress.
Only one man has ever seen me with that mask completely off, and everything that I had ever done for him was authentic.
He made me feel sexy, not that I had to perform being sexy.
I feel like I’m performing now.
The energy isn’t really there, but I can admit that it’s kind of fun to wear that mask again.
Sebastian and I fall into an easy conversation for the next hour, bantering back and forth, speaking about our careers.
By our second drink, I’m still performing, but there is a connection between Sebastian and me.
I’m just not sure what kind. I think it’s some type of understanding skin-deep, something neither of us can name yet.
Sebastian peers at my face, leaning closer to me.
“You really do have one of the most beautiful pairs of eyes I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian grins. “Did you know that?”
“Is that one of your lines you use on women?”
“It works on men too,” Sebastian smirks.
“Another thing we have in common then,” I say, clinking my glass against his. “You’re just trying to get me in your bed, huh?”
Sebastian tilts his head back and forth, leaning even closer to me, dropping his voice to a purr.
“No, Indie, I’m trying to tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman in this lounge,” he leans in to whisper in my ear. “And I’m dying to get a taste between your legs.”
It’s bold.
And I consider the offer for a brief moment. Sebastian is attractive, clearly. A little full of himself, but he’s a barrister and obviously makes good money from the expensive watch on his wrist, the Italian leather shoes on his feet, the suit, the expensive cologne, and the diamond cufflinks.
Not that I’m planning a relationship with him—I’ve done the sex only thing before, it’s never bothered me—but I’ve never done the sex only thing while I was still in love with someone else.
Sebastian takes my silence a certain way because suddenly his face is right in front of mine, his hand—too small from what I’m used to—cupping my cheek.
His gaze drops to my lips before lifting back to my eyes, his breath against my lips, pausing for a moment, and giving me just enough time to stop him.
I don’t.
Because maybe I need to see.
His mouth is on mine.
There’s no beard scratching my cheeks. The lips are too soft, too small, too wrong. The scent of him is wrong. The taste of him—gin—not whiskey, is all wrong.
Then I feel angry, because why is he wrong?
My heart answers for me.
Because he’s not Teddy.
And that’s the thought that makes me feel defiant… and maybe even a little desperate. I lean in to kiss him back. Just a bit more pressure, my lips moving against his for a second, like I can make this feel right if I try hard enough.
A glass shatters from somewhere in the room, but I don’t pull away to see. I just try to focus on the lips on mine.
Too soft, too small, wrong-tasting lips. Sebastian opens his mouth to deepen it, and it’s like a rubber band snapping back into place.
It’s not just Teddy, it’s that I’m forcing myself to do this to make a point. And that’s the most wrong about it. I’m not going to use someone else to get over the man who broke my heart.
That’s not what this trip is about. This trip is about me. And I don’t want to do this.
I flinch back abruptly, making Sebastian’s eyes snap open.
We both freeze, looking shocked.
“I am so sorry,” I say, feeling so embarrassed.
Sebastian doesn’t look pissed, or annoyed, or even mildly irritated, like I expected, like I’ve experienced before in previous men I’ve dated.
“No,” he rushes to say, looking genuinely concerned now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I thought you—”
“I wanted to try, but I just—”
“Indie, stop—you don’t need to explain. It was my fault—”
“—not your fault. I’m just still hung up on—”
We both realize we’ve been apologizing over each other and stop, before bursting into laughter.
I bury my face in my hands and groan. “What a mess.”
“You know, I’ve usually received positive reviews on my kissing technique,” Sebastian says, though there’s a little insecurity in his tone. “Was it that bad?”
“It’s not you—” I rush to tell him, and he grins almost knowingly.
“Oh, bollocks,” he groans, though there’s a smile on his face. “Not that line. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’”
“It is me,” I tell him. “It’s me who’s not ready for… anything… again.”
Sebastian’s expression softens, and he leans in a little closer to meet my eyes, his gaze warm and knowing.
“I understand,” Sebastian murmurs, smiling gently. “Recent breakup?”
I nod.
“Likewise,” he says, gesturing toward himself.
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
Sebastian swallows thickly, “Bought a ring and everything.”
My chest tightens in sympathy.
“What happened—if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I came home early from holiday with my old university mates. But I missed her so much, so I cut the trip short.”
Sebastian takes a long drink from his glass.
“And found her in our bed with the bloke she told me not to worry about.”
I lay a hand over his forearm, “Sebastian, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. It happened six months ago,” he says, looking down at the bar, his mouth pulling down.
All the earlier charming bravado is gone, and he seems genuinely vulnerable; it makes my chest ache.
I squeeze his forearm in comfort, and he gives me a wry grin.
“I guess I was just trying to… try again tonight. And I saw you, and thought you were beautiful, and you look exactly the opposite of what Rose looks like, so—”
“I understand,” I gently cut him off.
And I do, because I was trying to do the same.
Sebastian is the exact opposite of Teddy, and that’s why he’s wrong. Why me using him would be wrong. Why him using me would be wrong. Because we’re both not ready.
And that’s okay.
“What about you, Indie?”
I snort. “How much time you got?”
Sebastian grins and orders two more drinks from Lara.