Sunrise Kisses (The Kisses 8)

My mouse hovered over the link as I considered clicking it. I knew who Sebastian Belrose was. He was the wonderful man I had just finished paddle-boarding out on the ocean with. I had just spent the last week having the most amazing time with him. Sebastian Belrose protected me and treated me like I was special. I didn't need a clickbait article to tell me that.

I clicked on it anyway. I couldn't help myself.

The article was full of useless speculation. It seemed that very few people actually knew the real Sebastian Belrose. He had managed to keep the major secrets of his life out of the public, letting Gabe and Leo have the spotlight.

Model turned actress, Anastasia Nichols and billionaire Sebastian Belrose were thought to be an item last year, but have since been seen with other people.

A picture of Bastian and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen filled my screen. The two of them were obviously on a date at some sort of fancy restaurant. She had on the most amazing, form-fitting, red dress and her hand was resting on his arm. The picture had him caught in mid-laugh from whatever clever thing the stunning woman had to say.

I looked up at my reflection in the wall mirror, noting how I appeared nothing like the supermodel in the photo.

My hair was a disaster as I hadn't brushed it yet after our morning paddle-board session. In fact, there was even a piece of seaweed still lodged in it from when I fell in the water. I hadn't showered yet, so I hadn't put on any makeup. My nose was sunburned and freckles had started to pop up on my cheeks.

I wasn't anything close to a model. Why would he even bother with me? I wasn't anything spectacular.

My computer binged as an email arrived. I clicked to check it, thinking it might be an important update from Dad, only to find it another message from Chad.

We are perfect for one another. You know you'll never do better than me. Please give me another chance. I miss you. I know you miss me.

I hesitated to delete it, reading it twice more before finally hitting the delete button. I flipped back to the article on Sebastian, looking at the perfect woman that was making him laugh. He was so handsome and the two of them made an amazing looking couple. They would have beautiful children. Besides, looking at their elegant surroundings, I would never fit in there.

Maybe Chad was right. Maybe he was the best I could have hoped for. I looked in the mirror again and saw another piece of seaweed.

Bastian deserved someone better than me. He deserved someone who could fit in his world and complement him. I would never be able to wear that red dress without being incredibly self conscious and having to adjust it every two seconds. The woman in the picture didn't appear to have that problem.

I sighed and closed the window. I needed a shower.

***

I followed the smell of bacon into the kitchen. Bastian was busy mixing something in a bowl while bacon hissed and sputtered on the stove behind him. He had showered and shaved, but was wearing just a t-shirt and shorts. He smiled as he saw me come in.

“Ready for breakfast?” He held up the bowl. “I'm making waffles.”

I went to the coffee pot, pouring another cup. This was the last day of this tranquil domestic scene. The last day I would have this coffee mug and the last time Bastian would make me waffles. I didn't want this dream to end.

“I can't wait,” I told him, smiling and sipping at my coffee. He grinned and poured the first waffle into the waffle iron.

“You want to make the eggs?” he asked. “Yours are better than mine.”

I smiled at the compliment and went to the fridge to pull out the eggs. I was going to miss this.

“You're awfully quiet,” Bastian noted, checking his waffle before flipping the iron. “You okay?”

I pushed the butter around the skillet, watching it melt and change into something else.

“I leave in a few hours,” I said finally, my heart aching at just saying the words. I didn't want to leave, but I had to get back to my life. I had to get back to Dad. He was getting a pacemaker and I needed to be there for him. I had responsibilities and I couldn't stay in the Caribbean playing happy honeymoon forever.

“I know.” Bastian's voice held as much sadness as mine did.

“What happens next?” I asked. I cracked an egg, watching it sizzle in the butter before I mushed the yolk into a yellow mess. I turned around slowly to watch him.

“What do you mean?” Bastian removed his first waffle and put it on a plate. It was a perfect golden brown. He added more batter to the iron.

“What happens with us, Bastian?”

It was one of the few things we hadn't discussed this past week. We both had silently agreed to avoid it, finding other topics far more interesting. Our time together had been better than either one of us could remember, but we both knew that talking about it meant that it would come to an end. Except, even without discussing it, it was still ending.

“I don't know.” He ran a hand through his hair, spiking the still damp golden-brown tresses up. “I don't want to lose you, though.”