Page 82 of Carry On

Besides, vague was better with Sebastian. He’d start poking holes in a complex story if we fucked up a single detail. Knowing my luck, I’d screw up something like the weather, and Sebastian would know.

Sebastian said nothing. He just stared at Nash. I didn’t like how he scrutinized Nash, like he was dissecting him little by little until he couldfigure out everything he needed to about the man I’d married. It made me uncomfortable.

“You look familiar,” Sebastian commented finally.

Fuck. I drew in a steady breath, trying to calm the sudden kick up in my heart rate. More than once, Sebastian had crossed Nash’s path when he played for money on corners and around coffee shops. It came down to: did Sebastian pay enough attention to recognize him?

If he did, this whole thing would blow up rather quickly, and Sebastian’s moral compass knew no boundaries. He’d report my ass to the police in a heartbeat if it was the right thing to do.

“What can I say? I have one of those faces,” Nash answered, calm and cool about the whole thing. At least one of us was. His fingers squeezed my thigh for reassurance.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Well, that’s ayouproblem to solve, not me,” he retorted. I tried not to roll my eyes because his smartass commentary wasn’t going to help the situation any.

“How is writing going?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Nash and mine’s backstory.

“Eh,” Milo let out in frustration. “I’m struggling with my current manuscript, but I don’t have a deadline, so it’s not that big a deal.”

“That’s good.”

“The characters just aren’t talking to me, you know? I can’t hear their voices clearly in my head right now, and it’s messing up my process.”

“That sucks,” I replied like I understood any of that.

“Sure, he says he can’t hear his voices, and it sucks. I say it, and I’m crazy,” Nash muttered under his breath. I shot him a concerned look, but he just shook his head quickly.

“Do you guys know Spencer Harding?” Milo continued, completely oblivious to the two of us.

“Vaguely,” I told him. “I’ve heard of him, but epic fantasies aren’t my thing.”

“Yeah, well—and this is just between us, soshh—I secured a co-author contract with him,” he said with that big grin of his. “His agents want him to branch out into romantic fantasy, so he and I are going to be writing a book together. I leave next month for New Hampshire to meet him.”

“Now, when you say romantic fantasy,” Nash interjected, “do you mean it has dragons or it has dragon dicks?”

The table fell into shocked silence. I just stared at him. What the actual fuck? Nash, however, was undeterred and just shrugged.

“It’s a valid question,” he said.

“To be fair, to be fair! Yes, it is!” Milo replied with excitement. “Honestly, I don’t think Harding would be down for it, but me? I could go both ways.”

“You could go both ways?” Nash smirked.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “You can’t tell me if you were presented with the opportunity to fuck or be fucked by a dragon, you wouldn’t do it once.”

“The semantics play a big part in this, starting with… how big is the dragon’s dick?”

“Well, coconut oil will make it fit right?” Milo shot back, making Nash laugh.

“What is this goddamn conversation?” Sebastian whispered to me, leaning closer.

“Fuck if I know,” I replied. But I really didn’t care about the conversation. I was too busy admiring Nash’s laugh.

CHAPTER 57

NASH

WatchingLincolntalkquietlywith Sebastian left an uncomfortable feeling in my chest, something twisted and akin to… jealousy? Maybe? I couldn’t describe it. Not really. It wasn’t a thing I’d ever felt before, but the longer I watched them, the more intense the sour feeling in my stomach built.