Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Not of my doing. Now and then some tabloid or magazine will do an article on the royal family or something repulsive like a list of the best- and worst-looking members of the royal family. It’s pretty bloody awful when someone you care about is on the worst. Anyway, I get a flood of new followers from those things.”
I’d never really paid attention to tabloids or lists like those, but I couldn’t imagine someone listing me as the worst-looking member of my family on a public forum. “That’s atrocious.”
“I know. Thankfully it doesn’t happen all that often. My family aren’t exactly black sheep, but we stay away from a lot of public events and only attend the musts. Weddings, funerals. Ascot. That sort of thing.” His expression hardened as he looked away. “But that might change.”
I was about to ask why when he tapped the menu in front of me. “Choose something.”
Going with the change of subject, I picked a sandwich and salad.
“Is that what you really want or what you think you should eat in front of me?” he asked bluntly.
Taken aback by the question, I replied quietly, “It’s what I really want. Why would you ask that?”
Sebastian pressed his lips together, then sighed before explaining, “I notice you seem a little self-conscious about your body and I know you talk about it on your podcast.”
My cheeks burned. “Okay?”
“I … first, you should know you’re absolutely gorgeous just as you are, and you have no bloody reason to be self-conscious.”
My cheeks burned even hotter.
“And second, I want you to be comfortable around me.”
Irritated and uncomfortable, I decided to be honest about it. “I am the opposite of that right now.” I glowered at him. “I don’t have a problem with food. I order what I want to eat and don’t really think about people thinking about me eating. Pointing out my self-consciousness only makes me embarrassed and self-conscious and now all I’m going to be thinking about when I’m eating is the fact that you are, in fact, thinking about what I’m eating.”
He gaped at me. Then blanched. “Bugger, that’s a clusterfuck, isn’t it.”
Before I could respond, he got up, and for a second, I thought he was about to leave. Instead, he rounded the table and slid onto my bench. He rested his arm along the back of it so we were cocooned on this side.
“What are you doing?” I looked him up and down, my skin buzzing with awareness at his sudden proximity. I made a mental note to ask him when it was less weird what cologne he wore.
“I felt very far away from you during an important discussion.”
My lips twitched. “You’re kind of an odd duck, do you know that?”
Sebastian’s eyes twinkled and I noted his shoulders drop a little, as if he was visibly relaxing. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. Believe it or not, it was the exact opposite of my intentions.”
His eyes roamed my face as if marking every detail in his mind for later. It was confusing. The way he looked at me was confusing, considering he only wanted to be my friend.
“What were your intentions?”
“We’re friends now,” he said, as if he’d read my mind and was making things absolutely clear. “And I care about my friends. I want you to see yourself the way you really are and the way you really are … You are gorgeous, Lily Sawyer. Inside and out. Nothing to be self-conscious about. Ever.”
Then why don’t you want me?
I shoved out the melancholy thought and smiled. “I appreciate that. And I’ll take it on board. I promise. But just so you know when I was sixteen…someone made me feel self-conscious about my weight. From then, I was always on some fad diet because I thought I was fat. I’ve finally gotten to a place where I just want to be healthy, and I stopped the fad dieting and just try to eat well. But people being weird about food reminds of that time so—”
“Lily, I’m so sorry.” Sebastian leaned in close. Close enough to kiss. His expression was anguished. “I won’t ever bring it up again. I’m an arsehole.”
“You’re not an arsehole.” You are very close and way too good-looking, though. His eyes were a mossy green around the iris, but the green melted into a Mediterranean Sea blue. Beautiful eyes.
“Good. So, we’re still friends?”
“We’re still friends.”
“I’ll go order the food.”
“Let me pay—”
“Nope.” He slid off the bench.
“Thorne, if we’re to be friends, we need to share the cost of stuff.”
“Not today.” He was gone before I could argue further.
While Sebastian waited at the bar to place our order, the girl from earlier, Hermione, approached me with a girl at her side. They had their bags, so it seemed as if they were leaving.
“Hi again,” she said, a little friendlier this time.