16. Where Them Party People At?

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The mystery that is Seth has yet to be cracked. I try to be nice, I try to show him how I feel without being too pushy, I try to make him happy, and still nothing. I put him on a plane today, wishing him a magical journey and loads of fun with his old friend. That was nine hours ago. I told him to text or call when he landed, but I haven't heard a single chime resonate from my phone since he departed.

I push the thoughts away, telling myself he and Jamison are probably gabbing incessantly about their lives and he just hasn't had a chance to shut up long enough to call. Still, this odd sensation of icy metallic numbness won't stop creeping around in my gut. I've got a bad feeling about this and I'm the only one to blame. This whole fiasco was my idea. I basically shoved him out the door and said adios. Clearly, he wasn't thrilled about having me plan his weekend for him. Such a control freak... him, not me.

That being said, I do hope he can let go of his anger toward me for a couple of days and just have some fun. Who knows, maybe this experience will change his life and he'll come back a new man. It doesn't hurt to hope, right?

Only... it does.

Two days later, Seth barges through the front door. I glance up from my TV show, startled, and then quickly check the time on the clock hanging in the dining room.

"You said your flight was delayed!" I gasp, my words sounding slightly panicked with his sudden intrusion.

"No, I didn't." He doesn't look at me as he kicks off his shoes. "I said it might be."

And with that, he's throwing his bags on the floor and escaping to the bathroom. He doesn't come out for another hour, and by then I'm wondering if he was so pissed that he actually drowned himself in the bathtub.

When he finally does emerge, a hint of warm vanilla and fresh pine follows him. It's an oddly enticing scent, and it's calling to me like a steak calls to a wolf. Seth's cologne is a smell I've grown accustomed to and, though it's been ages since I last smelled it, it seems to be the only thing about him that hasn't changed.

A strange realization collides into a heap of chaotic thoughts as Seth comes to join me on the couch. It's the realization that this seems to be the first time I've smelled that scent in a long time. He always smells clean, like his spicy citrus shampoo, but in the last several months, he hasn't even bothered with cologne... until now.

Maybe he made plans tonight. It's not uncommon for people to want to smell nice, right? Whether it's a business meeting or a date, people want to make a good impression. I'm hoping that in this scenario it's business-related. Only, there's no way he'd wear sweat pants to a meeting. Additionally, there's no way he'd wear sweat pants on a date either.

Relief whirls through me like a tornado. This could only mean one thing then, right? I eye him subtly, taking in his appearance. He's wearing my favorite shirt—the one that hugs him in all the right places—and he smells like a sizzling enchanted forest.

Is all of it for me?

I glance over at him, but his eyes are trained straight ahead. Feeling brave, I slide my foot across the cushion and nudge him in the thigh. His eyes divert from the screen, and he shoots me a curious look, his brows lifted in question.

"I'm really sorry," I tell him.

I'd love to ask why he's smelling so darn good, but I'd hate to make a big deal out of something that he's hoping to be discreet about. I can understand that. I once paid for my Uncle Rich's car repairs and he never let me live it down. He made such a scene about it actually that I've yet to show him any other acts of kindness—other than what's expected of me. So, in fear of Seth never spurting himself with his Tom Ford cologne again, I hold my tongue.

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