For Seven Nights Only - Sarah Ballance Page 0,57

about you. If you’d been seeing anyone, and who your date for today was. That kind of thing.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted to know I came alone.”

Jana sighed and twisted her necklace, a longtime habit that displayed her nerves. “You’re so brave. For coming alone, I mean.”

Kelsie ducked into the restroom—head, whatever it was on a boat—and rinsed the razor. When she returned, she said, “I didn’t cross the Arctic. It was more of a gangplank. With rails.”

“No, not that.” Her sister sighed, and the sound was dangerously wobbly. “What I mean is you don’t need anybody. People are going to see you alone, and you’re okay with that.”

The words were a cruel slap, but when the initial shock dissolved, she realized she really was okay with that. It was better than being half of something that didn’t count.

Or in love with someone who didn’t want her.

The thought hit her like a thunderbolt. A depressing, look-how-alone-you-really-are kind of thunderbolt that offered no hope of finding Mr. Right. Because he’d been found against his will, and that…well, that was something else that didn’t count.

“So what about that guy you were seeing?” Jana asked, clearly unaware of the emotional shrapnel raining over Kelsie.

She froze. “You and I have not had a conversation that didn’t revolve entirely around wedding things for at least three months. What in the world makes you think I’m seeing someone?”

“Chad saw you at the opera.”

Kelsie took a shaky breath. Not because of Chad, but because at the mere mention of opera, her legs grew wobbly and her insides went nuclear. “Well, in that case,” she managed, “the more logical conclusion is that I went to the opera, not that I’ve been seeing someone.”

Jana shook her head but not vigorously enough to mess up her hair. “Um, no. You were definitely seeing someone.”

“You’re trusting my ex’s opinion of that?” Kelsie asked.

Jana just stared, her expression knowing.

“Yeah, I saw a guy. A couple of dates.” Six dates. Not that she was counting. “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but it was just sex.”

Jana’s jaw dropped. “At the opera? I’m pretty sure no one goes to the opera to have sex.”

“Not exactly at the opera.” To Jana’s questioning look, she added, “We left early.”

Utterly dumfounded, Jana asked, “To have sex? And I’m sorry, but how does someone not exactly have sex at the opera?”

Kelsie wanted to scream. To not relive anything Sawyer. But there was no way her sister would let this go. “We kissed at the opera, groped in the cab, and had sex at home. Nice discussion for your wedding day, by the way.” Ordinarily Kelsie wouldn’t be so blunt about her private life, but if her sister wanted to trade gossip with her ex, it might as well be the truth.

Jana grinned. “Was he hot?”

Kelsie sighed. Wistfully. “Seriously hot.”

“I think I’m actually impressed. That sounds kind of wild.”

“It was amazing. And it’s over.”

Jana frowned. “Maybe that’s for the better. I want you to find someone who wants a relationship so you can be as happy as I am.”

Kelsie just stared. Granted, it was her sister’s wedding day, but Jana had totally checked out on the hot guy sex angle. When Chad had dumped Kelsie, Jana had oh-so-helpfully patted her on the shoulder and agreed that yes, maybe Kelsie was a little dull. Now she was doing something—and someone—utterly undull, and her sister was suggesting she settle down?

Not that Jana didn’t have a point. Kelsie definitely needed someone who wanted more than just sex.

And that someone definitely wasn’t Sawyer.

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

Someone knocked on the door. “Five minutes!” the wedding planner called.

“Oh my gosh,” Jana said. “Am I really doing this?”

Kelsie smiled and hoped it hid the emptiness she felt inside. “Until death do you part.”

…

Sawyer stood ten feet from the East River, but it felt more like inches. It was a gorgeous Saturday, but the sunshine and crisp air did absolutely nothing to remedy the cold sweat that had overtaken him a good hour before. “You’re an idiot,” he told himself. “It’s just water. You know how to swim.”

A kid passed by, a triple ice cream cone tilting carelessly from his pudgy fist. His eyes narrowed in his chubby face like Sawyer was crazy.

“I have Bluetooth,” Sawyer called after him. Because that was Sawyer’s problem. A kid thinking he talked to himself. Not his world being in tatters because copious amounts of hydrogen and oxygen molecules arranged just so scared the shit out