CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 28
I screw up my mouth to hold back my laughter, and we start walking toward the group. After not giving in to his threats not to spend a dime or go to next year's event, the man finally chooses a guest to accompany him, and the other two are escorted out, but not before giving me a dirty look. As if I had brought them here knowing I shouldn't have. Then, it's just Ezekiel, Jeremiah, and me, standing next to the guests, checking in.

I hate that there's an awkwardness between us that's never existed before. A tension that has nothing to do with desire, or with me trying to deny what I feel for them, or even with me trying to pretend I don't feel anything. Now, there's something incompatible between us, as if we're all supposed to be closer, but the three of us are afraid to take that step.

"You look beautiful," Ezequiel finally says.

For some reason, I wasn't expecting those words. They make my eyes widen as I murmur, "Oh, thank you."

"We'll go in with you," Jeremiah says. "I promise you our names are on the list."

I laugh, a little relieved. “Hmm, Jeremiah, right?”

—Oh, you do remember me.— He smiles.

How could I forget it? And would I want to?

I smile at his sad-eyed brother. “And mmm…” I snap my fingers as I squint. “It starts with E… I think?”

His lips curve a little, enough to make my heart flutter.

"Ezequiel. Is that it?" I ask.

—It's me. Ezekiel Wright. Nice to meet you again.—

He reaches out his hand, and at first, I just look at it. I'm not sure I can bear to touch him. I'm not sure he deserves it. But the prospect of feeling his hand again overshadows every other thought until I slide my hand into his, feeling those calluses that have been driving me crazy again. His hand starts to tighten around mine, but I pull away. I have to.

“Are you guys ready?” I ask.

"Yes," Ezequiel replies, his voice filled with regret.

I turn around and continue forward, but soon they're beside me, one on either side, holding me tight. I'm back between them, where I once thought it felt so right. I still feel it. It scares me and comforts me at the same time.

"I'll take these two," I tell the escort.

We entered the hallway, and I turned left to lead them to their table, but they both stopped dead in their tracks. I turned to look at them, curious to know what was going on, but found them staring at me with a look of astonishment.

“This is amazing, Laury,” Jeremiah praises. “I knew you’d be amazing, but… Wow!”

—Thanks. Of course it's okay...—
"He won't," Ezequiel interrupts. "Because we won't allow it." He moves closer to me. I want to move away and closer to him. "This is your night. Nothing else matters. If you need anything, we're here."

I swallow and nod, and he smiles at me, even though it seems... dull.

"Your table is here," I say, my voice slightly hoarse.

I lead them to the table where Law and Sarah are already. My eyes widen when I see Kamila there too. She tries to get up, but I gesture for her to stay seated while I walk over and hug her.

"How did you manage to get past me without me seeing you?" I asked.

—You were dealing with that cocky guy. I didn't mean to interrupt you.

"Is there a problem?" Law asks.

"Laury took care of it," Jeremiah tells him.

“Oh my God, Laury! That’s amazing! That’s amazing!” Kamila says. “I just need my husband to bring some food. I could eat a horse right now!”

"You should serve some appetizers..." I begin, but just then I see one of the waiters approach the table. "Here we go."

The waiter begins serving the hors d'oeuvres: a large spoonful of creamed corn with a grilled scallop on top. A small glass of shrimp, cocktail sauce, and a lemon wedge. Bruschetta, a tall charcuterie board with meats, cheeses, and thin breadsticks.

“I really love it,” Kamila sighs before putting the rest of the shrimp in her mouth.

"The chef wanted me to give you this," the waiter says, handing him a folded piece of paper.

She raises her eyebrows as she takes the newspaper. I smile as I watch her unfold it, knowing what it says, since Jackson asked me if I could do it at an event he was hosting. But I quickly agreed it was perfect. I'd already look smart for the photos, and she wouldn't be imagining it.

"Oh my God!" she whispers. "Oh my God!" she says louder. "Oh my God!" she finally exclaims, rising from her seat. She looks around before settling on me and asks, "The kitchen?"

—Going through those doors—, I point toward a set of double doors toward the back of the room, between the stage and the bar.

Kamila runs, or rather, waddles, quickly toward the kitchen. I can hear her shout "yes" from here.

“Is that what I thought it was?” Sarah asks.

I nod. “A proposal, and I don’t want to take anything for granted, but I think she said yes.”

She laughs. “I think so too.”

Jeremiah snickers. “I bet Jackson was sweating like a pig back there, and it had nothing to do with being in the kitchen.”

“We all knew she’d say yes,” Sarah says.

—I've learned, and I definitely told Jackson, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah, to never take a woman for granted.

My eyes fell on Jeremiah and Ezekiel at his words, and their eyes followed mine. Jeremiah's gaze was filled with sadness, but Ezekiel's was filled with pain. Too many emotions flooded through me: sadness, anger, hope—a reckless, desperate hope. I took a necessary step back before clearing my throat.

"I'd better get back," I say. "I'll check on them in a bit."

I'm sure I'm moving away from their table too quickly, but I feel the need to put as much distance as possible between the two men clutching my heart. The band is playing, and yet I only hear my heartbeat in my ears as I walk toward the quiet auction, as if I'm needed there.

Throughout the event, their eyes are on me. Not only do I feel them, but every time I give in and look at them, I find their gazes on me as well. I keep an eye out for unnecessary things, which makes Heather give me several curious glances. When the band takes a break, I show them where they can eat in a section of the kitchen I asked Jackson to set up. Jackson grins from ear to ear as I check how long dessert will take now that the empty dinner plates are making their way back to the kitchen.

“I think I heard Kamila say yes,” I joke. “Unless there was another woman screaming in here.”

"She said yes." Her smile widens somewhat. "And now she's wearing her, as she put it, gorgeous engagement ring."

—Well, let me know when you need a wedding planner. Maybe I know a girl.

—I'll marry that girl tomorrow, if she lets me.—

I chuckle. “I can work in that weather.”

“Anyone want to bid on my private cooking night?” he asks.

I look at him in exasperation. “I’m going to assume you’re joking. Seventy-three people have bid, and that’s twelve thousand.”

He smirks. “I thought that might bring in a lot of money.”

I whistle. “Phew! I’ll have to find a place big enough for you, Kamila, and your ego.”

She throws her head back, laughing. "Kamila would agree with you, but she loves it."

—Oh, I know—, I laugh. —You're saving me a plate of everything, aren't you?—

—Of course. They told me I have to redeem myself anyway, so you ate at the restaurant Zek and Jer took you to.

For some reason, I'm surprised they told him that. About a date that was right before we died. That night was so good, so perfect, and now here we are, awkward silences and tense glances.

Yes, I heard you recommended the place. It was beautiful, especially the view.

—I'm sure if you tell them that, they'll accept you back right away.

I just hummed, and one of Jackson's sous chefs called him over. Taking advantage of the moment to forget about the date and the restaurant, I decided not to pay any more attention to Jeremiah or Ezekiel tonight. But that all went to pot when I walked out of the kitchen and saw a woman leaning over Jeremiah, her mouth close to his ear. He shook his head and leaned his body to separate them, but that didn't stop jealousy and possessiveness from washing over me.

Before I realize what I'm doing, my feet are already closing the distance between us. Sarah sees me first, her lips curled into a mocking smile. I narrow my eyes as I continue. Ezekiel sees me next, raising his eyebrows at what I'm sure is a determined look. Determined to get Jeremiah away from this woman.

"A little date won't hurt," the woman practically purrs.

"You'd probably end up hurt," I say through gritted teeth and the fakest smile on my face.

Her eyes widen as she straightens. “Oh, I didn’t realize…”

—You weren't worried about it either.—

—Come on, Laury, let's dance.—

Jeremiah stands up and pulls my hand until I have no choice but to follow him. I continue to stare at the woman, who has the audacity to roll her eyes before leaving, until we reach the dance floor between the tables, just before the stage. Jeremiah places his hands on my cheeks until I stare at him.

"Don't let it ruin your night, Laury," he says softly. "Or make you act in a way that will hurt your career later on."

I raise an eyebrow. “You mean if someone flirts with me at your gym, you wouldn’t punch them in the face?”

He smiles. “Yes, but that’s different.”

—Oh, is it?—

—No, but...— He shrugs. —Well, we're here now. May I have this dance?—