“I said call.”
“I’m aware, Bossypants. But since the last time I called Boden was after his grandmother died, I think it’s better that I text. He might respond to a text; he won’t answer if I call.”
I nod, he’s got a point. I quickly pull out my phone and send Oaklee a text as I walk back to the living room, realizing that the bedroom is dangerous.
“So what should we do while we wait? Someone should call and let the minister know what’s happening,” I say.
“I already called Kade and told him to tell everyone that Oaklee is sick, so there won’t be a wedding today. They should enjoy the food and drink if they want, though.”
“Good, that’s good. Even if they reconcile, they probably won’t want to get married at the chapel still. We should look into places they can get married around here.” I pull out my phone again.
“Or, we could use one of the dozen bedrooms in this place while we wait.” Sebastian winks at me.
“First, there are only three bedrooms, not a dozen.”
“You got me there.”
“Second, unless you plan on napping in one of them until they get back, the bedrooms will not be getting used.”
“Yes, Bossypants.”
“Will you stop calling me that? I’m not bossy.”
He chuckles. “Yes, you are. You are also adorable and beautiful and so damn sexy.”
“Just stop. You’ve already apologized for calling me fat. No need to continue trying to flatter me.”
“I never called you fat.”
“No, you just assumed I was pregnant.”
He frowns at his loss for words. Hurry back, Oaklee. I can’t stand to be here much longer.
I spot the wet bar and walk over to it. I’m going to need a drink to get through this wait with Sebastian. And because I’m nice, I decide to make a drink for Sebastian too.
“What are you drinking while we wait?” I ask.
He looks at me with a stern expression I don’t understand. My mouth goes dry. How is serious Sebastian sexier than flirty Sebastian?
I’m in trouble.
7
Sebastian
An alarm blares in my ear. I don’t remember setting an alarm, but I don’t remember falling asleep either. I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to be doing this morning.
I reach over to my nightstand to hit it off like I always do. But when I wack the alarm, it keeps blaring.
Dammit.
I force my eyes open, even though I don’t want to wake up. My body is begging me to go back to sleep. When I open my eyes, I realize I’m not in my bedroom.
I’m somewhere far fancier.
I blink rapidly, assuming this is a dream. I would never stay in a hotel this foo-fooie, but every time I look around, red and gold accents are staring back at me.
I grab the still-blaring alarm and find the switch to turn the bastard off. Then I flop back and look up at a bright chandelier staring down at me.