“You good?” she asks.
“Fuck.” I double over, my hands on my knees. “I hate when that happens.”
Cursing the shirt, I settle on a flowy black V-neck instead.
“Damn.” Joey’s eyes are glued to my chest. “I hope this isn’t offensive, but your new boobs are a huge perk. Pun intended.”
“You’re right. My tits are a fucking smoke show now.” Laughing, I give them a squeeze for emphasis.
Once I’m fully dressed, she insists on curling my hair, so I let her pamper me.
An hour later, with spiked boots sharp enough to kill a man, we climb into an Uber.
At the restaurant, Ezra’s eyes scorch my body the instant I step through the door. Heat creeps up my neck as I force my shoulders back and keep my chin high. I’m so self-conscious right now.
When we approach the table, Cam tugs me into a tight hug, shaking me back and forth with so much vigor I feel like a bobblehead.
When he releases me, Ezra steps forward.
The sight of him up close makes my knees wobble. He’s also in ripped black jeans, accompanied by a fitted white tee. His beard is trimmed nicely, and his unruly curls rest just above his shoulders. He looks… different.
“Millie.” It’s quick, but he looks me up and down, probably assessing how much I’ve changed too.
“Ezra.” I nod.
“You look?—”
“Can I get you drinks to start off?” A petite young woman appears beside the table.
Thank god too. Whatever he was about to say regarding my looks, he can shove it up his stupidly tattooed ass. Yeah, I might have been intoxicated when we hooked up in Greece, but I remember that infamous peach well, alongwith the inkedYour Nameat the top of one cheek. Apparently he got it right after high school so that when he was with a girl, he could say “I gotyournametattooed on my ass.”
I should have thrown him out of my hotel room right that instant for being so corny, but the way he told the story strangely endeared him to me. Don’t we all do stupid shit when we’re eighteen? He has to live with that tattoo for the rest of his life, so I’d say the guy has suffered enough.
The server sets four glasses of water on the table, then stands obnoxiously close to Ezra as she waits for our beverage order. She’s hot and moody-looking (totally my type), but I can’t peel my eyes from the man sitting across from me.
“A round of tequila shots,” he orders, head tipped back.
“Actually, I’ll have a vodka tonic with lime.” I zero in on him. “I hate when people order my drink.”
“Noted.” With a thick swallow, he props his elbows on the table and cracks his knuckles.
Why does he look so nervous?
“So, Millie, any cool auditions lately?” Cam asks.
Before I can answer, there’s athunkunder the table, and he frowns at Joey.
“Can we just cut to the chase?” Picking up my glass, I lock eyes with Ezra. “What are we doing here?”
“Fine.” He pulls his hair into a knot with an elastic tie, looking anywhere but at me, then lets out a sigh so big his whole body deflates. “I need you to be my wife.”
I choke on the sip of water I’ve just taken and spit it onto the table. “Come again?” I scramble for a napkin and dab my lips. “They must have put crack in this, because I could have sworn you asked me to be your wife. No, wait. There was no proposal. It was more of a demand. What the fuck?”
Joey lays a hand on my forearm, steadying me.
“Shit,” Ezra says, pulling at the front of his shirt like he’s fanning himself. “That’s not what I meant to say. I got nervous.”
The confident man I met a year ago is sweating now, so I give him the benefit of the doubt and remain silent so he can explain.
