Page 27 of Season's Schemings
It should say a lot that these are easilynotthe most embarrassing photos I’ve seen of myself today.
I watch Seb’s face as he examines the pictures, his eyes creasing at the corners. “I can’t believe we actually did this.”
“Me neither. When I dreamed of my fairytale wedding, I certainly never thoughtthiswas an option.”
The mood in the room suddenly shifts, and his eyes turn guarded as he looks at me—still holed up in bed and tucking into my bagel like a ravenous bear after a long winter of hibernation. “Now that we’re more, um, sober, I need to ask you: is this something you actually… wanted?” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I hope you didn’t feel pressured into something you didn’t want to do.”
He looks at me with caution, like he’s terrified that I’m about to burst into tears again. I have to admit, it’s nice to see that he’s concerned about me. Even thoughheis the least of my concerns right now.
Mymarriageis the least of my concerns right now. Unbelievably.
“It takes two to tango,” I say with a shrug. “We were both drunk and ridiculous, but I remember saying yes to this, Seb. I’ll admit, the later the night gets, the blurrier my memory becomes, but you didn’t pressure me into anything.”In fact, I’m the one who kissedyouwhen Elvis gave us our cue. You were a perfect gentleman, waiting for my lead.“You were as drunk as I was, and I’m pretty sure nothing, erm, physical happened between us. Save for, you know, our wedding kiss.”
At that moment, a piece of pepperoni falls from my forehead onto the bedspread between us, as if to punctuate my point that, indeed, nothing couldeverhappen between a sexy pro athlete like him and a mere mortal like myself.
“Of course, it didn’t,” Seb confirms. Firmly. Almost too firmly. But I am, quite literally, Pizza Face right now, so I cannot blame the man for not wanting to ravish me. He sucks in a breath through his nose and releases it before continuing, “But I’m a little concerned that I asked you to do something life-altering when you were, you know, in a mind-altered state.”
“It’s not like you dragged me kicking and screaming to the altar.”
“We gotmarried,Maddie.” His blue eyes—which look almost a bluish-gray in the morning light—glitter with all kinds of things I can’t decipher.
“Temporarily,” I supply with a jokey smile. “I can always have my dream wedding with my next husband.”
“It’s still a big ask.” He’s playing with his coffee cup, twisting the plastic lid back and forth. “And we could get in trouble if we get found out.Youcould get in so much trouble.” He looks up at me quickly. “We can get it annulled before that’s even an option. I can get a lawyer on it right away.”
I consider this.
And then, I imagine showing up to the Plumlee’s cabin in Aspen alone, while Adam and his perfectly pantsuited Elizabeth wax on about their engagement.
The family pariah who nobody can help because she’s beyond help.
I’ll be a laughingstock. A joke.
Meme Girl.
My chest pinches and I jut my chin out. “I’d say yes again if you asked me this morning, Seb.”
This must surprise him, because he suddenly twists his hand and a jet of dark coffee spills out of his cup, soaking his wrist. He winces, swears under his breath, and sets the cup down. Turns to me. “I would never want to do anything you weren’t one hundred percent on board with,” he says seriously, his blue eyes laser-focused on mine. “I want to play, badly, but I wantyouto be sure of this even more.”
“As long asyou’resure that you’re okay coming to Aspen and spending Christmas with my ridiculous family.”
“I get the 23rd to the 26th off and I have no other Christmas plans. Will that timeframe work?”
“Sure. Any longer and I’m sure we’ll both want to electrocute ourselves with the Christmas lights.”
“Sounds like a festive way to go.”
I grin. “The festivest.”
“Not a word.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Well, okay…” he says slowly. “I guess, this is happening. I promise to keep things professional—after last night, no more drinking. I’ll let my agent and lawyer know that we’re married, but ask them to keep it on the DL as much as possible, so we don’t make a spectacle. In return, I’ll come with you to Aspen. Make a great impression on your family, make your ex jealous, whatever you like.”
I give a little nod before he goes on with a resolute expression on his face.
“Then, after the holidays are over and I have a clearer idea of what’s happening with my immigration, I’ll get us both out of it the second I can.” He glances down at the meme girl on my phone quickly, and then back up to my face. “And I’m happy to go along with whatever breakup story you choose.”