Seb
I wasn’t sure what I expected when I walked into James’s family’s Hamptons house.
Part of me hoped for some champagne and caviar waiting for me.
Or James talking about whatever hedge fund he was excited to work on this week as he showed me to a spare bedroom where I could get some sleep after the day that I’d had.
What I wasn’t expecting was to walk in and immediately see her.
Roxie King.
Same sharp cheekbones, same ocean-blue eyes, same presence that hit like a sucker punch to the face.
I’d only hoped I would have had a second to breathe before I’d have to interact with her.
The alcohol at McGuire’s had masked my reaction to seeing her for the first time in years. But without it, the raw, physical impact was almost unbearable. It was a rush that made my head spin.
She stopped in the hallway like she’d seen a ghost.
“Roxie,” I blurted, the sound a little too loud in the sudden quiet. I used to love the way the word felt—smooth and familiar—as it rolled off my tongue. Now it was clumsy after years of never having the chance to use it.
Her voice came out clipped, cool. “Sebastian.”
It sounded completely different than it used to when she’d say it like a secret. Now it sounded like poison she was trying to spit out.
I wanted to say something casual. Funny maybe. Something to relieve the tension that had built up between us.
But nothing came out.
Part of me began to wonder if those emails we’d exchanged had all been a figment of my imagination. The lighthearted teasing, now subtly laced with barbs, was nowhere to be found in the room with us.
“So,” she said finally, arms crossed tight over her chest. “Work emergency all handled, then?”
The look on her face made it clear she didn’t care about the answer. This was her attempt at practicing the pleasant conversation we’d be forced to have the entire weekend. But I gave her one anyway.
“More or less.” I had told James I had a work emergency with a designer I helped the company acquire and that I’d be arriving separately because of it.
Truthfully, I just needed a break after my dad had been breathing down my neck all week, making sure I was on top of things like showing up on time, attending all the meetings, and that they were all scheduled for regular business hours.
Spending some time by myself to unwind felt like a good idea before seeing Roxie.
I shrugged. “Crisis averted.”
Her expression didn’t change. If anything, she looked more unimpressed.
“Well, glad your couture survived,” she said dryly.
There was the Roxie I remembered. The whip-smart mouth. The effortless ability to cut me down with a single sentence. God, I’d missed that.
“You know I don’t have anything to do with the fashion Whittaker Holdings produces. I just find companies that we can buy.”
“Right,” Roxie said, tone dripping with mock admiration. “So noble. Like a modern-day Robin Hood, if Robin Hood had a private equity firm and a black Amex.”
“I don’t even carry the black one anymore,” I replied. “Too heavy.”
She blinked. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh my god.” She rubbed her temples like just hearing me speak was giving her a migraine. “You’re worse than I remember.”
“So you’re saying,” I said, dropping my bag at my feet, “that you still remember me? I know I’m pretty unforgettable.”
She glared at me; arms crossed even tighter like she was trying to hold herself back. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Too late. I already told myself my daily affirmations.” I raised my hand to tick off each one on a finger. “I have killer abs. I can pick up any girl I want. And I am the most handsome man in all of Manhattan.”
That earned me an eye roll so aggressive it could’ve reversed the Earth’s rotation.
And for a second, I didn’t care that she hated me. Because at least she was looking at me again. Reacting. Giving me the time of day instead of ignoring me. It was the closest I’d felt to the way things used to be when we were back in high school. And as pathetic as it sounded, I clung to that.
But before I could open my mouth again, probably only to say something that would make this situation significantly worse, footsteps echoed above us.
I glanced up to see James and Hallie making their descent, perfectly timed to interrupt what was surely about to become a full-blown argument or possibly a second “Sebastian vs. Roxie Cold War.” The small spark of friendliness we had found in our emails was nowhere to be found.
“We’re in the primary at the end of the hall on the right, Rox,” Hallie said brightly, trying her best to pretend not to notice the tension.
Roxie didn’t respond right away. She picked up her bag from a bench in the hallway and said, “As long as I’m far away from him.”
I held a hand to my chest. “Ouch.”
She shot me a glare, then shouldered past me and up the stairs with enough force to nearly knock me off balance.
Hallie winced. “About that … the only two rooms free are right next to each other. We’re sharing the primary. Sebastian and James are in the room next door.”
“Great,” Roxie replied with a smile that seemed to radiate sarcasm.
“Oh no,” I called after her, laying it on thick. “How terrible for you. I hope you brought earplugs, darling. I snore.”
She didn’t dignify that with a response, only disappeared down the hallway.
James turned to me, clearly unimpressed. “Is this going to be a problem?”
With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I gave him my most innocent grin. “Why would you assume there’ll be a problem?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re you. And there’s clearly something going on between you and Roxie.”
I ascended the first few stairs to reach him. “This is going to be fun, James. Don’t you think?”
I could feel James’s gaze, heavy and unwavering, on the back of my head as I finished climbing the stairs and went in the direction where Roxie had disappeared.
The guest room had James’s mother written all over it.
A perfectly curated suite with crisp white linens and just enough nautical-themed art to remind you that you were near the ocean without hitting you over the head with it.
The renovation had clearly been invested in making the space modern, moving it away from the seventies-style dark wood that I remembered from the years growing up here.
I sat on the edge of the bed for a second—which was not nearly big enough to share with James—letting the silence settle.
Relishing the escape from my city duties, if only briefly.
For the first time in days, I wasn’t being asked to answer to anyone.
No back-to-back meetings. No calls. No polite small talk with the board.
Just this house, the ocean air, and unfortunately for my sanity … Roxie King.
I’d left the door to my room ajar and caught a flicker of movement outside.
There she was, moving across the hall with that effortless grace she’d always had.
Her hair was tied up in a loose knot, revealing the slope of her neck, and her tank top clung to her back, which made my pulse quicken a little.
I should’ve looked away. I really should have. Closed the door. Respected whatever sliver of distance we were pretending to maintain.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I watched.
She bent at the waist, rummaging through her bag, her shorts riding just slightly higher as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
The muscles in my jaw tightened. She stood a beat later and peeled off her top in one smooth motion, revealing the thin black straps of a bikini top tied around her neck.
My breath caught low in my throat as she turned toward me again, now fully dressed for the pool.
Or undressed, depending on how you looked at it.
The black bikini hugged her hips; her waist cinched perfectly beneath the sheer cream cover-up she’d thrown over her shoulders. Her legs were as long as ever, her skin golden already from the bit of sun we’d gotten in the city, and her sunglasses were pushed into her hair.
She knocked the breath clean out of my lungs.
Roxie didn’t glance toward my room. Or pause like she felt my stare. She was probably used to people looking at her like that … and I kind of hated how that thought bothered me.
She moved toward the staircase with long strides—completely unbothered, totally sure of herself. My fingers curled into the edge of the comforter. I hated how intimately I remembered that confidence. How I was completely at her mercy at seventeen.
And judging by the ache now settling low in my spine, I still was.
Without a second thought, I stood and changed into a pair of linen shorts and a button-up—yanking off my suit jacket and shedding my dress pants. If she wanted to sunbathe by the pool and pretend I didn’t exist, fine. But she’d have to do it while I existed right next to her.
I had barely finished buttoning my linen shirt as I made my way down the stairs, already catching a glimpse of Roxie at the bottom.
She didn’t look at me, didn’t slow her pace, just made a beeline for the backyard with a towel slung over one arm and a book gripped loosely in her hand.
Her cover-up was sheer enough to be maddening.
She might have pretended she didn’t see me, but she moved like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
“I’m good,” she said, brushing off Hallie’s offer to run into town with them for food. “I’m going to lie out by the pool with my book.”
There was a tightness in her voice she was trying to disguise as casual, but I’d known Roxie long enough to recognize when she was barely hanging on. That clipped tone. That was her trying to stay in control.
I was getting under her skin. Good.
I reached the bottom step just as she disappeared through the sliding glass doors.
Sunlight hit her as she stepped outside, catching the highlights in her hair, the smooth line of her back beneath the gauzy fabric.
She was doing everything she could not to notice me.
Which, ironically, only made me more aware of her.
James’s voice snapped me out of it.
“Seb, do you want to go into town with us to the store?”
I glanced at him, pretending for a moment to consider his offer even though I already knew exactly where I was going.
Go buy groceries with two people who definitely didn’t want a third wheel tagging along? Or stretch out beside Roxie, needle her just enough to get a rise out of her and get to admire her curves that had only grown more beautiful with time?
Was that even a question?
I gave a small nod. “I think I’m going to catch some sun,” I said, casually enough. “I’ve been stuck in the office for too long.”
James narrowed his eyes, seeing right through me. “When was the last time you actually went into the office?”
But I was already moving toward the door, sunglasses sliding into place, not bothering to answer.
I didn’t care if he believed me.
The only thing I cared about was the woman currently laying out her towel poolside like she owned the whole damn world and whether I could get her to let me back in.
Because something told me this weekend, she just might.