Hitched (20 page)

You have a date tomorrow night

I reply to Sebastian's text, knowing I should be working, but unable to resist a short break. It's been two days since we returned from his parent's house, and two days since I've seen him.

Really? Who's the lucky guy?

His text comes almost instantly.

My cock.

I laugh, and Tate gives me the evil eye. "I'm no cock block," he says, "but shit needs to get done. Or did you forget we're jumping out of an airplane tomorrow?"

Yeah, right. Forgetting would be a blessing. Joey's latest party is our craziest yet, and I've been going over safety rules all day. The last thing our business needs is someone turning into a pancake because they can't open their parachute. "I'll finish up and confirm the reservations." I give him my own evil eye. "Cock block."

He gives me the finger and gets back to work at his desk.

I text Sebastian.

I'm sorry, but your cock will have to reschedule. I have a party tomorrow night.

Can we come?

I type away, as Tate sighs at me.

Who the heck is we?

My cock and I.

I giggle, then bite my lip as thoughts of Sebastian inside me fill my mind.

No, sorry. But I'll see you next week. And then, I promise you
will
come.

We're looking forward to it.

After a brief pause, I get another text.

My parents really liked you.

I smile.

I really liked them too. Now stop texting me. You're distracting me from working, and you're turning my brother into a cock block, which is something he swore he'd never become.

Okay. I'll stop, but my cock wants me to remind you we have a date next week.

I'll put it on my schedule.

I try to get back to work, searching for the phone number of the restaurant we booked, but my thoughts keep going to Sebastian and his family. His mother balanced a time consuming career
and
a family. Am I ready for that?

Despite the memory of Sebastian and I horseback riding—and his fingers—I manage to get my work done and spend the evening watching skydiving videos on YouTube. I'm still stressed when I fall asleep.

The party at the hotel room, the restaurant, goes off without a hitch. But as Joey and the groom get ready to jump out of an airplane, I'm biting my nails.

"Don't worry," says Tate, his arm around me because I insisted we stay close. "If you die, I promise I'll keep the business running."

I elbow him in the stomach. "Asshole. I'm writing you out of my will."

The groom jumps out, followed by Joey, and I cover my eyes with my hands.

"Oh shit," says Tate softly. "They didn't make it."

"Fuck you, motherfucker," I say, because of course they made it. Right?

"Okay, you're next," says our instructor as he waves me to the door. I move fast, because it's the only way I'll be able to get through this. I could have chosen to stay on the ground, but I believe you should try most things at least once. Ever since I started Hitched, I've tried many things I never thought I would. And as I stand on the edge, I realize there's something else I'm ready to try.

I'm ready to try balancing Hitched and Sebastian.

And I jump.

"I'm officially divorced," I say, holding the annulment papers that arrived this morning.

Tate walks out of the kitchen, morning coffee in hand, smirking. "And I thought you two were so happy together."

I slide the papers into a black box I purchased a few days ago. "We're happy, but not ready for marriage. At least, I'm not."

"So are you breaking it off?"

I shake my head, drop my wedding ring into the box and cover it with a handwritten note.

I hope to wear this again, when I'm ready. But for now, I have a date with Dr. Sexy.

Tate snickers over my shoulder. Bastard must have read the note.

I shut the box and turn on him, frowning. "What?"

"You're going to end up with this guy. You're practically dying to have his babies."

"No. I'm not."
At least not yet. I always liked the name Jason for a boy…
I stop thinking about what may never happen and wrap the box with a white ribbon.

"You're a bad liar," says Tate. "Just promise me one thing."

"I might. What is it?"

"Invite me to the wedding this time, okay?"

We both laugh as I grab my shoes and purse, the black box wrapped under my arm. As Tate turns on the morning news, I walk out the door and drive to Sebastian's house. I have a note to deliver.

***

As I pull up in driveway, my cellphone rings. "Yes?"

"Hello, I need to schedule a bachelor party." His voice is excited, and I don't recognize it.

It's a new client. I would squeal if he couldn't hear me. "Sure, what day do you have in mind?"

"This Wednesday. I know it's a little last minute, but we just couldn't wait to get married, you know?"

"All too well," I say, still shocked I married a one-night stand. But of course, that one-night stand was Sebastian, so normal rules don't apply, right?

"Great, so can you schedule it?"

I glance over my mental calendar. Shit. Sebastian and I planned to go to
Le Reve
on Wednesday. He's already bought the tickets, and they aren't cheap. But I can't ask this guy to reschedule his wedding. We'll just have to go later, and I'll buy new tickets from the money I get from this job. "No problem," I say. "I'll call you back tomorrow to discuss the details."

"Thank you."

Excited about my new client and holding the black box behind my back, I head for Sebastian's door. I ring the bell, once, twice, three times, but he doesn't answer. Is he not home?

I could text him, but I don't want to spoil my surprise visit, so I check around the house, hoping he's in the back. I hear splashing. Bingo. I look over the fence, and see Sebastian stepping out of the pool, water dripping down his muscled back. Here's the man I'm considering spending the rest of my life with.

And he's walking straight toward Celene.

What is the fucking bitch doing at his house? I'm about to call out, when Sebastian reaches for Celene. HUGS. HER. What the fuck?

Celene has tears streaming down her face. Great. She's so happy she's fucking crying. What the fuck is going on?

I want to confront both of them, yell at them, but no words come to my mouth. My throat feels swollen, and my mouth too dry.

Maybe they're getting back together. Maybe I'm just misunderstanding things.

I'm ready to punch her. To punch them.

But then I look closer. I see how they fit together. How they share something he and I will never share. I remember her words that day in the hospital. Will I ever be the person Sebastian really needs? Will I ever truly be a part of the most important thing in his life? His medicine.

I thought I could. But looking at them now... I am kidding myself. We were playing house in a make-believe world. None of it was real.

What I'm looking at now, that's real. They've got history. They made a fucking child together. They have everything he and I will never have.

Celene is perfect for Sebastian. Or at least, she's better than me. She's a doctor, and she's ready for marriage. I'm struggling to build a business and may not be ready to marry for years. Fuck her. Fuck both of them.

Before they can notice me, I storm back to my car, crumpling the black box in my hands. My eyes swell with tears as I step on my foot wrong, twisting it, my red shoe falling off.

"Fuck this," I mumble under my breath. As I limp to my car, leaving the shoe behind, I realize this is the perfect time to call things off. The divorce just went through, and our summer is done.

I still have Hitched. I still have Tate and Vi and everything I'm building in my life. I don't need Sebastian.

As I pull my note out of the box and stuff the box into Sebastian's mailbox, my phone rings.

It must be the client who just booked. I answer with a voice I hope doesn't betray my emotion.

"Hello, is this Ms. Michaels?"

"Yes."

"This is David Melton's assistant. I'm calling as a courtesy to let you know that while we appreciate your creative ideas for the bachelor party, we've decided to go with a different company for that evening. Mr. Melton thanks you again for your enthusiasm and wishes you the best."

I hang up, my heart shriveling into something dark and sad as I realize that my love life and my plans for my business have both fallen apart on the very same night.

Fuck. This. Shit.

"What happened?" asks Tate, looking me over like I caught some ugly disease.

I know I look like shit. My mascara's running, and my face must be red. "It's over," I say as I rush to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Tate follows me, anger in his voice. "What'd he do, sis?"

"Nothing. The divorce went through. Now, we can both get back to normal—"

"Don't give me that shit, Kacie. What the fuck happened?"

I run my hands under cool water, then splash it on my face. The memory of Sebastian and Celene still burns. "I realized I can't be in a serious relationship and run Hitched, okay?"
And
Sebastian needs someone else.
Then I remember with a sinking heart that's not all that happened tonight, and the rest involves Tate and his life too. "Speaking of Hitched, you were right. The basket was a lame idea, and it didn't work. We lost the Melton party. They picked someone else. Maybe if I hadn't been with Sebastian, hadn't been distracted, I wouldn't have fucked it up. I would have figured out a way to get that client and make our careers."

"First, don't worry about Hitched. The business is fine. We don't need a big client to do well. Second, I'm calling Vi," says Tate. "You need her."

Before I can object, he disappears down the hallway. I jump into the shower. Thoughts of Sebastian, his fingers on my skin, his lips on my mouth, fill my mind, but I push them away. Fuck that man. I have to get over him if I'm ever to enjoy life again. Seeking distraction, I get out of the shower, throw on a soft large shirt, and dig into a bowl of chocolate chip ice cream. Tate turns on
The Princess Bride
, one of those movies we could watch forever, and we sit together on the couch, my head resting on his shoulder. A few minutes later, Vi arrives, holding a white bag.

"I've brought the break up cure," she says, pulling out a giant bottle of vodka.

"I think we might need more than that," says Tate.

Vi nods knowingly and pulls out a second bottle.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I ask.

"Girl, you're killing yourself," says Vi, pouring us shots, and by shots I mean full fucking cups. She hands me one. "Dr. Sexy isn't worth it."

You're wrong
, says a part of me. The part that still thinks Sebastian is the greatest man in the world, and I'm stupid for leaving him. But I can't be with someone who's so ready to marry me, or so ready to be with someone else. I don't even know which it is, but I'm not ready to commit, and he deserves someone who is.

"Keep the drinks coming," I tell Vi.

She smirks and cuddles up next to me. By the end of the film, when the grandfather says, "As you wish," we're all teary eyed and drunk as fuck. "You're not supposed to be sad," I say, my words slurring. "You're never sad."

Vi is crying so hard she gasps. "I broke up with Chad."

Tate and I speak in unison. "What?"