Page 40 of The Spice Play

“About an hour north of Atlanta! Out by the national forest, the one I can’t pronounce. We’d love it if you came.” The tinny sound of a male voice was barely audible in the background, but I knew the tenor of it, knew it like the back of my hand. It was Morris.

I wasn’t sure if it was the panic, the suddenness, or the overwhelming urge to prove to myself and them that I was okay now and unphased by all of it, but the words I never wanted to say flew from my mouth before I could think them through. “Of course, I’ll come.”

“Oh! That’s… that’s great! I’ll get an invite sent out to you. Can you text me your address?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Do you need a plus one, or…?”

Well, that’s a fucking loaded question.

It was stupid. Absolutely, ridiculously stupid, and I regretted it the moment I said it — but goddammit, I couldn’t let them think I was sad and alone. I couldn’t let them think I was struggling or tarnished or spoiled goods.

“If there’s space, I’d love to bring my boyfriend, but don’t make any extra accommodations or anything if you can’t swing it,” I said.

Idiot. Fucking idiot.

As if my life was the goddamn Truman Show and everything was played up for laughs, a deep little snicker came from the direction of the stairs, and I spun on a dime.

Sebastian leaned over the staircase's banister in his T-shirt and shorts, eyes locked firmly on mine as he took a bite of his apple. He grinned at me, mischief swirling in his eyes as a single curl of damp black hair fell over his brow.

“We candefinitelyallow for that,” Ruby said. “I’ll text you the details. You just send me your address and we’ll mark you down. So excited to see you!”

My stomach churned uncomfortably. “Yeah, uh, you too.”

The call disconnected and I dropped the phone from my ear, watching as Seb sauntered down the stairs again with far too much smug swagger for someone with a sore knee.

“You know, usually, two people sit down and have a conversation before deciding what they are to each other,” Seb chuckled, slipping into the kitchen with far too much grace and sidestepping me.

“I didn’t?—”

“I know. I put it together fairly easily. I’m just teasing you.” Seb leaned against the counter, not even a hint of knee pain evident in his stance or face, and took another crunchy bite from his green apple. I didn’t know what it was, but it was as ifeverymuscle was at attention, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was just because he’d worked out or if he was trying to tempt me.

Either way, I still wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Just so I’m absolutely sure, that was… what was his name? Moriarty?”

I glared at him. “Morris. He’s not the evil villain from Sherlock Holmes. And no, it wasn’t Morris, it was Ruby.”

His nose scrunched up as he chewed at another bite. “Oh, that’s even worse.Andshe invited you to the wedding?”

I nodded.

“Hmm.” His eyes darted around me in the quiet, looking off toward the living room as the sound of someone getting overly excited about what I could only imagine was getting to pet a fish filtered over to us. “What is…?”

“Please don’t ask. Something to do with people who are obsessed with fish.”

“O…kay,” he chuckled, dragging his gaze back to me. He seemed so much lighter today, so muchhappier, and I wasn’t sure if it was just because of last night or if it was because he didn’t feel a need to hold back around me anymore. “I’ll be yourboyfriendfor the wedding.”

I blinked at him, shock firing off neurons in my brain. “You can’t do that.”

“I absolutely can,” he said around a mouthful.

“No, you reallycan’t,” I insisted. “Morris is a hockey fan. He probably knows who you are.”

Seb snorted, coughing up the food I imagined got lodged in his throat from his laughter. “That just makes it ten times better. Let me make the little shit feel small, he deserves it.”

I glared at him and pulled open the fridge, plucking my glass of juice I’d abandoned in it earlier out. “He’s basically as tall as you.”

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