IT’S CHILLY TONIGHT,though not as cold as I expected it to be this close to Thanksgiving. When I step into the Black Hole, I’m greeted by Aunt Elin, Joey’s mom, who immediately pulls me into a hug.
Her warmth and happiness soak into me as she rocks me from side to side. “Amelia, sweetheart.”
She’s a few months sober and looks the best she has since my Uncle Noah died thirteen years ago. When planning this surprise for my cousin, Cam and I agreed that a dry function—offering mocktails, coffee, and tea only—was the best way to go.
“Oh my gosh, hi. I’m so glad you could make it.”
Aunt Elin flew in this afternoon from California and came straight to the coffee shop so she wouldn’t ruin the surprise for her daughter.
“I wouldn’t miss Josefine’s book launch for the world. Such a shame your folks couldn’t make it. Your mom said they caught the flu from Asher and Bea?”
I mirror her frown. Not only are my brother and his daughter unable to make it, but now that my parents are sick as well, I’mthe sole member of my family here supporting Joey. “Yeah, they’re super bummed.”
I promised I’d help Mark and his wife lay out the food they’ve so generously catered, so I introduce my aunt to my next-door neighbors, Peg and Fran, who have been surrogate mothers to Joey and me, then I take off, ready to help set up.
A gold banner that readsI did it… for the plotfalls from one side, and I scurry over to tack it back to the wall. I hoist myself onto a wooden chair and crouch to grab the end of the banner. As I straighten, my balance falters, but just before I go down, a strong hand steadies the outside of my thigh.
“Careful,” the deep voice warns.
My breath catches, and I pivot on the ball of my foot so I can face my savior. It’s a terrible idea, spinning around like this, because the sturdy fingers have now shifted dangerously close to theinsideof my thigh.
The man hovering below me pulls his tan hand back like I’ve shocked him.
“Oh, you. Um, hi,” I stutter. Though I should have expected to see him here, I’m startled by our reunion.
Ezra may be Cam’s closest friend, but he’s also the man I hooked up with in Greece several months ago and haven’t spoken to since. After two ridiculously hot encounters, the guy was giving off major family-man vibes, and that’s just not my thing. I’m looking for a familywoman, to be honest. Though I love a pretty cock, I’ve always imagined myself marrying a woman. Not that I’ll be ready for that anytime soon. I’m only twenty-seven.
It wasn’t my intention to avoid him when we returned to the city—I just didn’t go out of my way to see him. As busy as I’ve been, it’s been ridiculously easy tonotbump into him. For months I’ve had my hands full, traveling with the theater, voice acting, hanging out with Sam, and bartending at the club.
For a moment, I give myself permission to reexamine the manwith eyes like melted chocolate.And a man he is.His dark, unruly curls are pulled back into a bun, and his beard is perfectly groomed, as always.
I accept his hand and follow the line of corded veins that peeks out from the black button-down he’s got rolled to his elbow. “Thanks,” I croak. “How are you?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, making it a challenge not to take in the definition there as well. “Really good. And you? It’s been a while.”
If there’s more to that statement, I can’t tell.
“Really good, yeah. Thanks.”
Oh god, this is the lamest reintroduction ever. He’d have more success talking to a monkey.
I clear my throat and put in a little more effort. “What have you been up to?”
He scratches his beard, instantly throwing me back to the feeling of it against my neck.
“Work keeps me busy.”
“Teacher, right?” I vaguely remember him telling me how much he loves the youth. I could practically taste the “settling down” vibes oozing from his pores as he went on about his job.
“Yes. I teach middle school social studies. And you? Joey mentioned you’re in a show?”
“I am.Was,” I fumble. This man is so damn handsome, it hurts to look at him. “I was in a production, and I’m getting ready for rehearsals for another one, actually.”
His brows lift, along with one side of his mouth. “Love to hear it.” He sounds genuine too.
As I search for another appropriate topic to keep the conversation from turning awkward, my breasts buzz, startling me. With a quiet gasp, I yank my phone from my bra—this damn dress doesn’t have pockets (Big mistake. Big.Huge.)—catching the way Ezra’s eyes widen, then quickly flit away.
The text from Cam is a single random emoji—our signal that they’re on their way.
