Page 110 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
“You did live most of your life in the commonwealth,” I say. “There must have been some things you missed.”
He hesitates, and I wish I hadn’t asked the question.
There’s nothing about Massachusetts he misses. He’s supposed to be strolling under the bright sunshine as palm trees sway above him. He’s supposed to look out his window, and not see gray clouds piled so close together for so many months that he forgets the sky is ever blue, but see hills dotted with celebrity homes jutting into the sky. Even the LA haze renders everything in pink and orange, a soft filter all its own.
I swallow the acid taste in my mouth. It’s fine. California is better. Massachusetts has the cold and sleet and the bad memories.
He probably is wishing he’s in California right now, floating in his infinity pool or something.
“I guess I missed Boston,” he says finally. I like the old buildings.”
“Oh, yeah?”
That answer isn’t bad. After all, I live in Boston.
“We went there on an eighth-grade field trip,” he says. “
“The famous end of middle school retreat.”
“It wasn’t discontinued by the time you went to Ashcove Middle School?”
“They turned it into a day trip. Apparently, one of the upper-level trips classes decimated their hotel rooms.”
“I was not involved in that,” Sebastian says primly. “I just got the lecture.”
“Mrs. Kowalski could be pretty scary,” I say sympathetically.
I scrunch my lips together, unsure whether or not to share the next part with Sebastian. He might find out once he goes to Ashcove and maybe it’s not horrible if he can have some time to adjust to the thought.
“You know Bryce is now delivering those lectures now,” I say, taking out ingredients from the fridge.
“What?”
“He’s the assistant principal of Ashcove High.”
Sebastian blinks. “Seriously?”
“He said high school was the best time of his life.”
“Oh.” Sebastian’s brow furrows. “He did rule the school.”
“And now he gets paid to walk around the hallways and look intimidating.”
“Oh.” Sebastian draws back. “Good for him?”
“You happy for my brother, baby?” I say lightly.
“I’m happy for anyone who finds their true purpose.”
“Extraordinarily diplomatic of you.” I want to ruffle Sebastian’s hair and draw him into my lap and give him all the kisses in the world. Instead, I find the cutting board and some cooking bowls and place them on the counter.
“Do you want me to speak to him before the trip?” I ask. “In case you see him?”
Sebastian closes his eyes, and my heart aches. I stride across the kitchen and clasp his hands in mine.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” I promise. “You’re the boss here.”
His eyes are still closed, but I know he’s listening. I kiss his cheek, then ruffle his hair because his locks are still flailing in every direction, and I’m a man and not meant to resist such adorableness.
