Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
It was a club within a club. I didn’t belong here. This had to be how Cinderella felt. I mean, the suit was mine and my chariot was the Chevy Impala hidden by the garage, but in all other aspects, I was a fraud. Any second now someone’s real bodyguard was going to ask for my credentials. I’d get tossed on my ass and miss—
Whoa. What did I miss?
Someone sniffed. And Charlie was dabbing his eyes with a napkin.
“…no one better than Gray at embracing life’s rich pageant. No one better at navigating the tougher times too. Like loss, heartbreak, dreams that don’t quite pan out. There’s no one better at rebuilding after a storm than Gray. No one I’d trust to get it right…time after time.” Seb’s voice hitched. A quiet came over the guests. Smiles faded and their eyes took on a watery sheen. “I count myself a very fortunate man to call him my co-parent in crime and my dearest, very best friend. Someone who’ll put you first, celebrate your highs, console you at your lows. I’m so happy you met someone like Justin, who is mighty and passionate, and will love you as you deserve to be loved. Help me raise a toast to Gray and Justin. May you live happily ever after.”
“To Gray and Justin!”
Champagne flutes and beer bottles clinked, Seb hugged Gray, then Justin, and the guests cheered. Charlie wiped tears from his eyes while his boyfriend held him closer and Oliver looked on in a kind of daze, as if unsure if he was supposed to be happy or worried about his brother.
I felt for the kid. It was…confusing. Or maybe not.
Everyone was happy. Extremely happy.
They cheered when Seb handed off the mic to a musclebound young man who I think he said was Justin’s brother. Then to a bandmate.
The toasts continued as caterers jockeyed into place, preparing for the dinner rush, moving in choreographed precision. And me? I waited on the sidelines, watching Seb move amongst these famous strangers in their natural habitat, thinking this was very fucking surreal.
I should have been long gone by now, but he’d asked me to stay and I was too curious now anyway. I studied him for clues, noting that he stuck close to Oliver’s side, his hand resting on his son’s shoulder protectively, flitting his gaze between Charlie and Gray. It felt so…personal. Like his mask was slipping and he couldn’t adjust his expression quickly enough to hide…
Pain.
Just like that, the puzzle pieces fell into place.
Seb was in love with his ex.
That was the source of those flashes of melancholy the first night we met. And it was why his smile seemed slightly off-kilter when he tilted his chin my way before being pulled into a gaggle of laughing friends.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there. Maybe another twenty minutes, give or take. I wasn’t necessarily in shock, but I was…confused. Did everyone here know? Did Justin? Did Gray? Or was it one of those secrets no one talks about? Charlie definitely knew. I had a crazy feeling that his wild machinations had more to do with protecting Seb from scrutiny than Justin.
When very hot stars rose to the top, they tended to shine a light on everyone around them. It was science. Justin was golden. He was a young, talented, vibrant artist at the top of his game and climbing higher every day. But the headlines of a former flame finding love after a public breakup with a younger man who, according to his son, was a jerk, might not be so kind to Seb.
Yeah, Charlie was certainly looking out for his dad. No wonder he wanted me out of the way.
That thought stirred me to life. I cast one last glance over the majestic Mediterranean-style backyard, knowing I’d probably never be this close to this kind of grandeur and this caliber of celebrity again. Meh, that was okay by me. This wasn’t my scene. Time to jam.
I slipped out the side gate and traversed the graveled path to the main driveway. I nodded at the valet as I pulled my keys from my pocket. By the time I reached the side of the carriage house, the party noise faded to a dull hum, broken by the occasional bark of laughter—and the crunch of footsteps behind me.
“Are you following me?” I pointed the fob at my car, turning when the footsteps closed in.
“No. Maybe.” Seb paused at the passenger side door and gestured at the garage. “My wheels are locked up. I can’t get keys without alerting everyone and…”
“What do you want?” I prodded.
“I want to get out of here.”
“You want a ride somewhere?”
“Yes.” He slid into the car and closed the door.
I cast a furtive look toward the house. If I’d expected a small army of friends and family to run after us and ask where the hell we thought we were going, I would have been disappointed.