Happily Letter After(50)

I smiled. “I did push a bit last week. And while we moved forward in that moment, he seems to have taken four steps away from me after it happened.”

“So if he took four back . . . then you take two forward and make him take two forward. Have you two been out on a date yet?”

I shook my head.

“Try starting there. Baby steps.”

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

Macie patted my hand. “You’ll figure it out. In the meantime, thank you for being there for my niece.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

We finished our coffees, and then Macie walked me to the door.

“Oh. One more thing . . . tomorrow I’m taking Birdie to brunch and a play in the city. It’s a surprise, but we’re seeing The Lion King. Just the two of us.”

I smiled. “That’s great. I’m sure she’ll love that.”

“Yes. We’re leaving about ten. We won’t be back until at least seven. Sebastian goes into the restaurant about three on Sundays. So he’ll be home all alone from ten to three.” She winked. “I thought maybe you might want to know that.”



The next morning, I kept going back through my conversation with Macie over and over again. Maybe she was right. In hindsight, my dad could have used a little push. He’d spent so many years worrying about doing the right thing for me and feeling guilty over moving on. I wish a woman who cared about him had pushed him a bit to find some happiness for himself.

So I took a deep breath and picked up my phone. Without allowing any further debate, I shot off a text and immediately hit “Send.” Except in my haste to get the message out before I changed my mind, I hadn’t noticed the typo.

What I’d meant to type was:

Sadie: Hey. Are you free? I was wondering if you could meet me this morning?

But what I’d actually typed was:

Sadie: Hey. Are you free? I was wondering if you could eat me this morning?

I shut my eyes and shook my head. I watched the message go from Sent to Delivered to Read and started to laugh out loud. I’d been so grumpy this week that it felt good to not take myself so seriously. The little dots began to jump around and then stopped, then started to jump around again. I imagined what Sebastian’s face might look like after reading that text, and it amused the hell out of me. While I waited to see how he might respond, the ridiculousness of the last week just hit me and I cackled like a loon.

Though my laughter came to an abrupt halt seeing the response pop up on my screen. My eyes nearly bulged from my head, and I had to blink twice to read the text a second time.

Sebastian: Be here at eleven.

Oh. My. Freaking. God.

Did I just invite myself over for oral sex and he accepted?

I think I might have.

Is it possible he could have read my text as it was originally intended and not how it had been delivered with the typo?

I reread the short exchange one more time.

Sadie: Hey. Are you free? I was wondering if you could eat me this morning?

Sebastian: Be here at eleven.

It seemed pretty clear to me.

Though what the hell was I going to do now?





CHAPTER 19

SEBASTIAN

I kept staring at the text. She didn’t mean “eat,” did she? I laughed at the fact that I truly didn’t know. After that little note she’d left by my bed, I honestly couldn’t be certain if Sadie was being sexually blunt or not. I also couldn’t seem to decide whether I wanted her to have meant “eat.” What I was sure of? The thought of eating her made me hard as all hell.

The doorbell rang almost as soon as the clock struck eleven. I went to the door to greet her, feeling somewhat tense, especially given the thoughts that had just been running around in my mind.

Sadie looked gorgeous, dressed in a white wool peacoat. It was finally starting to feel like fall now. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold. Her hair was down in long, loose tendrils.

“Come in.”

Before I had a chance to say anything, Sadie just started talking—fast.

She looked down at her feet, then up at me. “I, uh, realized my message said ‘eat me.’ I meant ‘meet me.’ I didn’t want you to think I meant eat me. I mean . . . if you wanted to do that . . . I wouldn’t complain, but I didn’t want you to think I was suggesting anything. You know . . . stupid voice to text. I can’t even tell you how much trouble it’s gotten me into in the past. I—”

“Sadie, relax. I figured it out. I was eighty percent sure you meant meet me.”

She blew a breath up into her hair. “Oh great. And the other twenty percent?”

“Well, that’s sort of what I like about you . . . that there could be a doubt. You have bold tendencies. You’re not afraid to say what you want. It would have been an interesting request.”

Thoughts of ripping that coat off, carrying her to the couch, before spreading her legs apart and burying my face between them came to mind. That certainly wasn’t the worst thought in the world right now at all. And if she’d meant “eat me”? God knows what I would have allowed myself to do right now.

Getting out of here for a bit would be a good idea.

“Speaking of eating, Sadie, it’s almost lunchtime. Do you happen to like Italian?”