Fuckin’ heathens up here.
I removed my ball cap and left it on my lap.
“Momma, can we live in an RV?” Teddy asked.
“You think we have too much space at home?” Soph smirked.
Teddy grinned sheepishly. “No, but we could go anywhere!”
I chuckled and grabbed myself a Coke.
“Where would all your toys go?” Dylan asked.
Teddy hadn’t considered that. “Maybe in my room at Bastian’s house?”
Sebastian shot him a little grin but didn’t say anything. He was usually so vocal. Now, because I was here, shit was weird. He hadn’t looked my way once. Not a glance as far as I knew.
I’d avoided looking at him since the moment they got here, but now that I was sitting so close to him, it seemed I couldn’t look away. He was too fucking gorgeous. Stunning. Still so immense, yet with heaps of charm.
Isabella was getting fussy in Dylan’s arms, and Soph said she couldn’t put off feeding her any longer. She excused herself to head inside and nurse the little one.
“Don’t step on Oppy and Percy, please,” I said.
“Oh! I wanna see them, Uncle Blake!” Teddy pleaded and almost knocked back his chair when he stood up. As if I could deny him. “Momma, I go with you.” He grabbed a new pizza slice and tumbled toward Soph.
Dylan turned a perturbed look Soph’s way. “You’re leaving me with those two?” He just didn’t know how to whisper.
Soph thought that was hilarious and just giggled in response. Then she disappeared into the trailer with the kids, and the tension automatically turned awkward and agitated. The latter came from Sebastian, because without Teddy around, he didn’t have to pretend.
“Are you gonna fucking eat or what?” Sebastian asked irritably.
I glanced at Dylan, who was in the middle of finishing a slice, and it dawned on me that the question was for me.
“Huh?” I managed. Wow, he was talking to me.
Sebastian flicked me an impatient look. “You’ve lost weight, and you’re not eating. Are you sick or just dumber than you look?”
“This is nice,” Dylan said. “We should do this more often.”
I furrowed my brow and wondered what the hell Sebastian’s problem was. Okay, I could venture a guess, but if he wanted to avoid me, avoid talking to me, he didn’t have to worry about what I ate.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about—I haven’t lost any weight.”
“Dumber than you look, then. Because yeah, you have.” He tossed a crust into one of the boxes and leaned back, his posture and expression saying he was letting it go. He didn’t wanna talk anymore.
“So how are the Pugs doing, Blake?” Dylan interjected. “Or was it Bulldogs?”
I slid my stare to Dylan instead and let some humor seep in. Bless him. “You don’t have to run interference, buddy. When Sebastian’s ready to hash things out like a real man, these passive-aggressive little bitch fits will be history.”
“Boy, there’s nothing passive about my aggression,” Sebastian laughed. “Unlike that snide remark you just offered.”
“What was that, baby? Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Dylan abruptly left his seat and fled inside.
Christ. We knew how to clear a room. Or a patio.
“We might as well get this out of the way so we can move on,” Sebastian told me, and I lifted a brow, admittedly curious. “Soph told me you were building them a house, and it goes without saying that I will be here to help out whenever I can. But as far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason you and I gotta talk. We’ll act civil around Teddy, and then—” He shrugged. “I’ll just wait until you run back into your closet in Georgia again.”
Nice speech. He had it all figured out, huh?
I’d half expected Soph to tell him everything, including the part where I came out to my folks and got the boot. In retrospect, this made more sense. It was a personal topic—and my story to tell.
Not that it mattered. Sebastian clearly didn’t want it, and truth be told, maybe it was for the best. My willpower and self-control didn’t exist around this man, and I had to keep my distance, something that would be a lot easier if he didn’t pity me or whatever.
“All right.” I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I take it you’re not interested in an apology for leaving the way I did.”
He smiled faintly, a humorless twist of his lips that left me a few degrees colder. “No, you can save your excuses for someone who gives a rat’s ass.”
I wasn’t gonna lie; that one stung. But I couldn’t blame him. We’d shared something this summer, and I’d bailed in the most cowardly way. Like always.
At the same time, I couldn’t help but feel irritated. He’d hurt me too, goddammit. He’d used his weird hippie voodoo on me. He’d given me anxiety and fears. He’d turned me into a headcase.