Page 13 of Some Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love 1)
It closed after the last of the lunch crowd left, usually by three each day, so I’d been surprised to see someone still seated at the counter when I walked in.
He looked over his shoulder at me, and now that he’d taken off his sunglasses, I could better appreciate his good looks—the light green eyes, the angled cheekbones, the full mouth. When he frowned, I felt the embarrassment of face planting in the sand all over again, which was dwarfed only by the shame I’d experi
enced when he’d said I know who you are that way and I realized he’d seen me on Save a Horse.
And he probably read the paper this morning. He hates you, just like everyone else in this town.
Fine, I could handle it.
I scowled right back.
Just then Natalie came through the door from the kitchen and grabbed the coffeepot behind the counter. “How about a warmup?” she asked him.
He kept staring at me without answering her question, and the tension was too much for me to bear. “For fuck’s sake, just say it!” I exploded. “Yes, I’m who you think I am. Yes, I’m that bitch on TV. Yes, I said shitty things about nice people, so just stop staring at me and tell me flat out that I deserve all the crap that’s happening to me today, including falling on my face!”
“Skylar!” Natalie glanced frantically back and forth from me to the guy. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. This is my sister, Skylar, and apparently she’s having a very bad day,” she said with a murderous look at me. “Otherwise I cannot imagine why she would come in here and scream obscenities at my customer.”
I looked at the guy again, but he was no longer focused on me. He was frantically closing his notebook and tucking it out of sight in his jacket.
Instantly I felt guilty. “Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’m done anyway.” He pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills on the counter.
“No, please stay. You just got here.” Natalie filled his cup with coffee and set down the pot. “And put your money away. Coffee’s on me.”
“Keep it as a tip then. See you around.” He picked up his keys from the counter, put his sunglasses back on, and moved toward the door.
I raced ahead of him, unable to bear the thought he would leave still thinking I was a horrible person, even though I felt like one. “Hey, don’t leave on my account. I really am sorry.” Leaning back against the glass door, I smiled. “Can I try again?”
Slowly, he lifted his head and met my eyes. Stared directly into them, so hard my breath caught in my chest, and I felt desire stir low in my belly. With the short hair and the aviator glasses, he looked like a fighter pilot or something. Even the stubborn set of his jaw turned me on. Rawr.
“I’m Skylar,” I said, extending my hand. Then I wrinkled my nose. “But I guess you already know that from the Save a Horse, right?”
His brow furrowed. “Save a what?”
“Save a Horse. The reality show.” The fact that his expression remained perplexed gave me hope. “You mean you haven’t seen it?”
“No. I don’t watch much TV.” He paused. “You don’t remember me.”
“I don’t think we’ve met.” I tilted my head coquettishly. “I’d remember you. Definitely.”
Although, wait a second—there was something familiar there. Had we met? Why couldn’t I place him? Was he an actor I’d been introduced to in New York? And why wouldn’t he shake my hand, which was still extended between us?
It took him forever, but finally he reached for it.
“And you are?” I prompted. Man, this guy was gorgeous but a bit lacking in social niceties.
“Sebastian Pryce.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, enjoying the cozy fit of my hand inside his. “Are you—”
And then it hit me.
I did know him.
At least, I’d known a Sebastian Pryce. We’d gone to school together for years. But this couldn’t be that Sebastian…could it? I looked down at our hands. The Sebastian I’d known wouldn’t have shaken hands because he was always so paranoid about germs. Kids used to tease him by touching his shoulders and saying, Better go wash your hands, Sebastian. I gave you cooties. And even though it was ridiculous and we all knew there was no such thing as cooties, he always asked to go wash his hands after that. Once, in fifth grade, our teacher had said no because we were getting ready to take a test, and he’d completely flipped out and started tapping on his head and counting out loud. It was awful.
He let go of my hand and I continued to stare at him. Now I saw it, but talk about duckling to swan. I swallowed. “Wow. Sebastian. You look…different.”
