“Good. Justin needs to eat. I’ll make him something before you go,” my mom crowed.
“Ma, we don’t have time to—”
“Then we make time. Now, say cheese,” Mom directed, motioning for Seb and me to stand closer together.
I put my arm around Seb’s waist and pulled him close, whispering in his ear, “This is chaos.”
“Madness,” he agreed, flashing a wide grin. “Did I tell you I think you’re hot?”
“Hey, keep it PG over here, for cryin’ out loud,” my father groused playfully.
“Never mind him.” Mom rolled her eyes and snapped a few pics. “Oh, so handsome. Bellisimo. Now, where is my Charlie? They’re coming for dinner, yes?”
Oliver popped up from his seat. “Yeah, Char said they’re on their way and—”
“Hello! We’ve come bearing gifts of bubbly,” Charlie announced, holding a bottle of Veuve over his head.
“And beer,” Ky added. He set the case of Budweiser, my dad’s favorite since the seventies, on the island before hugging my mom. Then he catapulted over the sectional to join Oliver and Dad, twisting to give Seb and me a once-over. “Wow, lookin’ good, boys.”
“Thanks. Are we ready to—”
Chester flew into the room, yipping a greeting, with Justin and Gray behind him.
The newlyweds were six months into wedded bliss after hosting what the media had dubbed “the rock and roll wedding of the decade.” An interesting description for what had actually been a very intimate affair at the beach. The reception took place at Charlie and Ky’s new home in Malibu. Seb led the speeches again, honoring his best friend and his husband with a lovely tribute about the gift of second chances and enduring friendship. Not a dry eye in the house.
Okay, I admit I’d been a little worried Seb might feel melancholy about his ex’s marriage. When I’d commented on his apparent nonchalance, he’d grinned. “I genuinely hope they’re as happy as I am.” I believed him.
And I had to say, marriage looked good on Gray and Justin. Or maybe it was the tuxes. The four of us were heading to the Oscars, where Gray had been nominated for Best Song for The Last Drop. The editing and sound crew had also been nominated. Needless to say, it was a very big night for Baxter. For Seb.
“You brought your dog?” Seb asked incredulously.
“Francesca insisted,” Justin replied, slinking his arm around my mother’s ample waist.
“Yes, yes. We love Chester. And you too. I made spaghetti…come eat and…”
I pulled Seb’s elbow. “Say your good-byes and meet me outside by the garden.”
He quirked a brow but obeyed.
Five minutes later, we stood side by side, gazing at the buds on the rosebushes and the twilight sky blossoming in a riot of color on the horizon.
“Hey, whatever happens tonight…I want you to know that I’m proud of you,” I said, lacing my pinky with his.
“Thanks, but I’m not up for an award. I’m just supporting my crew and my friend and—”
“Yes, but Baxter is yours. You built this empire. You made everything possible. That kid who lived on Greenbush Street would be pretty damn amazed that his dreams came true. And better yet, that he’s shared his dreams with so many others…throughout the world. That’s not a little thing, Seb. It’s incredible.”
He turned to me and set his hand on my cheek. “It’s good, yes. But it’s not everything. You are. We are. I’m proud of Baxter, but this feels more significant. I love building a home and a life with you. I love that your family adopted mine and vice versa. I love that every day feels like a new beginning.”
“Me too.”
“And to think it all began with a fake British accent,” he smirked.
I snickered and gave him my best phony accent. “Aye, me love. But it was worth it.”
“Definitely. I love you, Trent Mackay.”
“I love you too.”
I rested my forehead against his, basking in a wave of contentment, peace, and love. Yeah, I know that sounds schmoopy, but bear with me. I’d known worry, heartache, and sadness. I’d been paralyzed with fear and guilty of self-sabotage. I never wanted to visit those dark places again.
I vowed to protect what we had…like an over-vigilant bodyguard, if necessary. I’d give whatever was necessary to let him know that he was my world. I wanted every part of the real Seb…his highs and lows, his joy and pain. And I knew I could trust him with all of me.
This was where I belonged now. With Seb.
The real Baxter.