Sexy Love (Sexy Series Book 4)

by Dani Lovell

  “Wow, not long.”

  “And you’ve got everything pretty much bought and booked up?” I ask.

  “Yep, we have to choose between two photographers, get the wedding rings which is our last job, do the final fittings for all of the dresses as you know,” she says, nodding towards me and Tilly; her bridesmaids. “We have to make a few final decisions with the venue about layouts, table plans and all that jazz, but we’re pretty much there.”

  “It really is exciting. My little brother is getting himself all married!” I joke, reaching up to tap his cheek.

  “You’re so organised, Bea,” Tilly says, seriously, almost awed.

  “Well – you know how it’s been, it’s hard to do much from home in the UK so when I come back for the two weeks with Daniel, I don’t have to work, so I spend all of my time with wedding plans. And you’ve been helping me, anyway.”

  “I’ve loved every minute of it.”

  “So Alexia was telling me that you’re in London for six weeks at a time and then back in California for two, is that right?”

  “Yes,” Daniel responds, “but we’ve changed that up a little recently with the wedding coming up, staying longer and coming back sooner where possible. We’ll go back to six/two after the wedding I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, we will – it’s just so great that we can do that, that you can work here or there, Daniel, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, baby, it’s good. And we do like to travel.”

  “You two love an aeroplane!” Tilly says. “I’m surprised you didn’t choose to get married on one!”

  “Now that would have been fun!” Bea laughs.

  “Just make sure baby Berkeley is at least made on one. Do you still remember your seat number, Bea, when you met?”

  “Yep, I still have my boarding pass, I use it as a bookmark. Daniel tries to book those same seats for all of the Virgin Atlantic flights to LAX.”

  “Aww…” Tilly says, one hand on her chest, the other clutching her wine glass. “Stop it, you know what I’m like these days. I’m bored of crying now.”

  “Anyway, we don’t need to keep talking about the wedding, I’m sure it must get boring for everybody else, and besides, it’s your anniversary Til! Where’s the husbo?”

  “Hmm,” she mumbles, looking around and failing to see him, so in true Tilly Summers style, she simply yells at the top of her lungs. “Luke!”

  Within about fourteen seconds, her husband is outside, barefoot and casually gorgeous in his smart, belted shorts and white, linen shirt, tucked in, showing off his small waist and toned body.

  As much as I can appreciate his fabulous body, it’s never been something I’m attracted to. He’s my little bother’s best friend and I can’t see him as anything other than that. Seeing him with Tilly is as delightful as watching my brother with Bea. I couldn’t be happier for them, that they have found their matches.

  It does make me wonder, if I have met mine. It’s a bit too soon to be thinking like that, but I feel like I could be as happy with Seb, as they are together. Sometimes I feel like there would be a huge, aching, void in my life, if Sebastian and I stopped seeing each other, which is crazy considering we haven’t even been seeing each other that long, not to mention the fact that I used to find him a lecherous reprobate.

  Oh how times change. I look up at his handsome face as he laughs and converses with my friends, and that pang in my stomach hits me with force. It’s something I’d like to feel a lot, lot more of.

  ~~~~~~~

  The evening was lovely for Luke and Tilly. Everybody mingled well and it stayed fun, but calm and easy at the same time. Perfect for a Monday evening.

  Sebastian and I did separate as we talked with others and I was conscious of the urge to return to him at any opportunity, but I realised that it was an unhealthy feeling that I had to resist in order to remain me.

  I wanted him to find me on a couple of occasions, but whenever I looked over at him, he was deep in conversation with somebody, so he was clearly preoccupied.

  By the time people started to leave, I was just about ready, too. It was late and I have work tomorrow, so decided to find Sebastian to see what he’d like to do. When I found him, he was with Cole and Dawn, saying goodbye, so I joined him, hugging Cole, and I watched as they left.

  “Hi, stranger,” I said to Sebastian with a smile.

  “Hey, it was a nice party, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was lovely. Did you get to speak to Cole?”

  “Hmm? What about?” I found that odd, knowing we had laughed about him needing to ask about Dawn, but I just put it down to a short memory having spoken to a few people this evening.

  “Cotton candy – Dawn.”

  “Oh right, yes – apparently a first time date with a girl he met online. Her pictures were a lot more natural, apparently.”

  “Oh,” I laughed. “Funny. So, er… what did you want to do? Do you want to leave now, too? I’m pretty tired and have work tomorrow so can’t stay too late.”

  “Sure, did you want a ride home?”

  I frowned; did he think we’d be leaving separately? “Well as you came as my date, I had assumed we’d arrive and leave together, didn’t you?”

  “I wasn’t sure, I’ll gladly drop you home, it’s not a problem.” I was perturbed by his sudden coolness, he clearly wasn’t planning on staying over and I was not going back to his place… had something happened?

  “Is everything okay, Sebastian?”

  “Sure, should we say goodbye then? I should probably leave soon. I have an early start tomorrow.”

  “Well, yes, of course – I just said that to you,” I said, utterly confused.

  “Great.”

  He walked towards the house, slowing only when it would be unacceptable not to, to turn and prompt me to follow him. I did so, quietly, my stomach knotting, wondering if I had done something. Had something about Cole and Cotton Candy upset him? Had someone badgered him about me and scared him off? What was happening?

  We said our goodbyes to the remaining guests and the happy couple, before leaving through the side gate and heading towards the car.

  As we stepped in, Sebastian checked his watch and turned the engine on, in silence. “So, you had a good evening?” I ask, trying to make conversation to make everything better.

  “It was fun.”

  “It really was. They seem so happy, don’t they?”

  “Well you’d hope so, they’ve only been married for one year!”

  I didn’t respond to that. He was being an ass. “Sebastian, what is wrong?”

  “Nothing! Stop asking me that!”

  “Well something is clearly not right.”

  “Maybe because you keep asking me what’s wrong! Nothing is wrong, can’t we have a good night and leave it at that?”

  “Of course we can, I did have a good night, but you seem to be very hostile at the moment and I don’t know if I’ve done something or what.”

  “What? Back off Alexia, please? I’m good, there’s nothing wrong.”

  I sat back, stunned. I couldn’t understand how he could be so Jekyll and Hyde. I felt pretty dumb having said all of those things to Tilly about him, and have admitted those feelings to myself, earlier, only for him to suddenly turn on me, as cold as ice.

  Again, it didn’t take long to arrive at my apartment, having rode silently since those last words. He pulled up and simply looked over to me as if he was too busy for chit-chat. “Well, I’m flying early tomorrow and for the next few days, so I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “Okay, where are you off to? Anywhere nice?” I asked, attempting to be nice in the hope that it’d remind him that I’m a good cop.

  “Just here and there, domestic flights mainly. It’s work so…”

  “Oh, okay. Do you know when you’re back?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Okay, well I hope you have enjoyed the past few days, I know I have – so thank you for that. Safe journey for the next
few days.”

  “Thanks, have a good week.”

  I leant towards him after I unbuckled my seatbelt and he had no choice but to kiss me. It was nice, and he did linger a little, which totally contradicted his mood, but I allowed it, needing him to be a little less static.

  I touched his face with my fingers and opened my eyes to see his closed firmly, a frown on his face, troubled, somewhat. I continued to kiss him until he was ready to part, which was a few moments later, comforting me slightly.

  He opened his eyes to look at me and blinked, slowly returning to his driving position. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  I took my cue and left the car, closing the door and walking around to the pathway to the main reception. I looked back once, but he was looking at his cell, not me. I heard his car pull away after I stepped inside, so at least I know he was gentlemanly enough to at least make sure I had gotten inside, and not driven off like a total asshole.

  But now, here I lie in bed, wondering what happened. The entire night runs through my mind in slow motion, over and over again, trying desperately to understand why he turned so suddenly.

  At the start of the night, everything was good, he held me next to him when we talked, we arrived together, laughing and conversing… I talked to Tilly in the kitchen and came straight back outside to him – there was nothing untoward at that point… so what else?

  Did Cole say something? I don’t see what he’d have said, Cole and I get along just fine… maybe he reminded Sebastian about single life and he suddenly felt trapped. Maybe seeing Cotton Candy Dawn made him want to go out there and meet other girls, not that I could see him finding her attractive for one minute.

  Maybe it’s something else… maybe he knew Dawn personally and didn’t want to tell me, although I would find that highly unlikely, also.

  He must have had a phone call or a text message that disturbed him in some way. Maybe he had a work issue stress him out, but if he did – it wouldn’t warrant that type of cool frigidity.

  Maybe there was somebody else at the party who played a part in his fluctuating behaviour that he spoke to during the time that we were apart. Is it because I didn’t go over to him for all that time? That would be crazy – I could easily come back with exactly the same issue because he didn’t come to find me either.

  I roll over and sigh, loudly. I can’t sleep and I don’t see how I’m going to, and I’m utterly shocked that I’ve let this happen to me. I say time and time again that I don’t question myself for anybody, but yet again, here I am, questioning myself because of Sebastian.

  The only solace is that maybe he was tired and in a strange mood because of a work problem or private argument, and that he’ll be back to himself tomorrow.

  That, along with utter exhaustion is the formula that sends me into a long, dark and restless sleep. Hope is all I can do, because the other possibility is far too difficult to contemplate.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THURSDAY 16TH APRIL

  Today was the day that the work in my department finally eased up. We hit every deadline and the remaining major project that we had been working so hard on, was completed.

  We’re back to our usual every day work with all of the other major projects spread throughout the year easily, as opposed to all at once as they were so recently.

  We always manage when we get busy like that, it wouldn’t be acceptable to fail and my staff is aware of this, but we tend to work through it without panic, which makes everybody’s day a little less stressful. I try to encourage the same attitude throughout my entire department, and the company as a whole. It makes for a much more enjoyable working environment.

  I’ll arrange something to thank everybody in the next week or so.

  It has been really quite difficult to concentrate on work for the first time in my life, this past week and a half since the anniversary party. Sebastian said he’d be in touch when he got back from his travels, and I had really hoped to hear from him, but I haven’t.

  My stomach churns every time I think of him or hear his name. I have tried to avoid talking to my friends for fear of having to answer questions about him. Of course I can tell them he’s working away so I haven’t heard from him, but I don’t want to have to even say his name.

  Tilly would want me to tell her all about my worries and fears right now because she’d say that it’ll help me to share and listen to others’ opinions of the whole situation, but other than never wanting to discuss this again, I also don’t want my friends to think badly of him. Why is that?

  I texted him once a couple of days ago when I thought he might have returned as he originally said he’d be away for a few days. I only said that I had hoped his travels were smooth and that I looked forward to hearing from him, in the hope that it might have prompted some kind of response. It didn’t.

  I don‘t understand it, I thought everything was fantastic before the party, I thought we had really hit it off, and this awful sinking feeling that fills me night and day is almost impossible to bear.

  I never thought I’d be the type of person to want to hide away in my home, but every morning without fail, I’ve had to force myself to go into work to ensure these projects were finalised, when all I really wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a comforter, a cup of coffee and a huge selection of cheesy romance novels to help me escape my reality.

  I still get by on hope that he might be in contact soon, but with every day that passes after my text message, that hope dwindles a little more, and the ache in my chest augments.

  He must have tried and tested and decided he didn’t like. And that thought makes me want to vomit. I just can’t stop thinking that it was so sudden, so unexpected. How could he be interested in me one minute, and then not be able to even look at me the next?

  So yet again, I’m in bed earlier than necessary in the hope that I’ll fall asleep and forget for a while. I wonder how long it’ll take to get over him, I’ve never really had to get over anybody before, It’s definitely not something I wanted to have to experience.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THURSDAY 23RD APRIL

  Nothing. Rien. Nada, niente, nichts, res, ekkert. Two and a half weeks of cold, miserable silence.

  It’s clear he’s not interested and that it’s not work keeping him away, but I had still held out that dumb hope that he might get back in touch.

  I have been so tempted to contact him to try to make him think of me and remember the amazing times we had together, not to mention to make sure that he’s okay, but I know he’s okay. Not only did that message I sent him deliver, it was also marked as ‘read’.

  He chose not to reply for whatever reason, and I need to come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to see him in the same capacity again. I thought - as is always so commonly spoken - that time will heal and I’ll feel better with each day that comes. It hasn’t, and I feel even worse than I did last week. This is the second day in a row that I haven’t gone into work. I never take time off work unless I am on vacation, and when I say vacation, I mean out of State.

  Vacation days to stay home have never been of any interest to me. When I realised I wouldn’t be able to go in today either, I knew I had to call to book official time off, and I’ll just have to think of somewhere to go to help me justify my actions to myself. Maybe just booking into a local hotel somewhere will make me feel a little better about it.

  I haven’t eaten for days and my stomach hurts. I try to eat, I do, but my mouth refuses to comply and as soon as I begin to chew, I have to spit it out.

  I’m a mess and I think it’s made even worse by my own inability to tolerate this kind of weakness.

  It’s eleven, and where I draw the line at slobbing around the place in pyjamas (I am fully washed and dressed), I am still doing what I would usually find abhorrent – shuffling around my apartment, hunched over, clutching a cup of coffee and my Kindle.

  I can appreciate how it
might be comfortable to curl up on the couch under a blanket in pyjamas; jeans and a sweater really aren’t all that cosy, but I just can’t bring myself to do that, I’ve never been able to wear nightwear past nine.

  Entering the kitchen, I sigh; nothing new in here, nothing interesting, just my coffee machine sympathising with me, doing what it does best and brewing me the best cup of coffee in town. I love how it’s looking after me, and it’s about the only thing I would let look after me.

  As it gets to business, I put my Kindle on the counter and rest against the cupboard doors, covering my face with my hands and massaging my forehead with my fingertips. If I was a crier, I can imagine I’d be a puffy, red mess right now. Instead, I’m still inconsolable, but I’m just a miserable bitch with every single muscle in my body – tense and aching.

  Occasionally, I think it’d be nice to have a little kitten or dog with me, so I could scoop it up and at least talk to something that’ll cuddle me back, but I’m really not an animal person and as soon as I remember why I have never bought myself a furry friend, I realise I’m only looking for some interaction. My coffee machine, as sweet as it is, simply doesn’t cuddle.

  With my steamy, fresh cup in my hand, I take my Kindle back and shuffle to the living room. I decide fresh air would be good for me, and I tuck my Kindle under my arm to open the balcony doors. Stepping out into the warm but slightly overcast day, I fill my lungs with fresh air and feel that punch in the gut when I remember why I am here, doing this.

  I sit in a chair, putting my coffee down on the table and resting my slippered feet on the other chair, and I close my eyes for a moment. I just can’t see how this feeling is going to go away. It seems there’s nothing more detrimental to one’s health than angst, upset and uncertainty – because I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

  As I open up the Kindle to a new book, I rest back to relax, take a sip of coffee and… yes, you got it – my phone begins to ring. Couldn’t it have rung when I was in the kitchen? Did it have to wait until I got myself comfortable and ready to lose myself in romantic, idyllic fiction?