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"If you would, please, sir," I urge him again.
He does begin walking to the side, this time, even if he makes sure to curl his lip at Ezekiel before he does it. I watch him go, his guests and Ezekiel following, and then a hand is at my lower back. Reminding me of the game we played, what feels like so long ago, I instantly know it's Jeremiah. I want to sink into his touch, turn my body so I can get wrapped up in his embrace, inhale his scent and feel his warmth again.
"You okay?" he asks low.
I look over at him to find him wearing an all-black suit as well. His hair is down, brushed more to the right side, somehow looking ruffled and perfect all at once. He smiles at me, and I'm struck with just how much I have missed that smile.
"Lexa?" he questions, making me realize I never answered him.
"I'm fine. I've dealt with much worse than that arrogant jerk."
"Are you talking about the little guy or Ezekiel?"
I tuck in my lips to hold in my laughter, and we begin walking over to the group. After me not relenting to his threats to not spend a dime or come to the event next year, the man finallypicks one guest to attend with him, and the other two are escorted out, but not without giving me dirty looks first. As if I'm the one who brought them here knowing I shouldn't have. Then, it's just me, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah standing off to the side of the guests checking in.
I hate that there's an awkwardness between us that was never there before. A tension that has nothing to do with desire, or me trying to deny what I feel for them, or even trying to act like I don't feel anything at all. Now, there's a wrongness between us, like we're all supposed to be closer, but all three of us are afraid to take that step.
"You look beautiful," Ezekiel finally says.
For some reason, I don't expect the words from him. They make my eyes widen as I murmur out, "Oh, thank you."
"We'll walk in with you," Jeremiah states. "I promise our names are on the list."
I chuckle, a bit of that tension relieved. "Hmm, Jeremiah, right?"
"Ah, you do remember me." He grins.
How could I ever forget? And would I ever want to?
I smile over at his sad-eyed brother. "And umm..." I snap my fingers while squinting my eyes. "Starts with an E...I think?"
His lips curve up some, enough to make my heart flutter.
"Ezekiel. Is that it?" I ask.
"That's me. Ezekiel Wright. Pleasure to make your acquittance again."
He extends his hand to me, and at first, I just look down at it. Not sure if I can handle touching him. Not sure he deserves my touch. But the prospect of feeling his hand again overwhelms all other thoughts until I'm sliding my hand into his, feeling thosecallouses that have driven me crazy again. His hand begins to tighten around mine, but I pull away. I have to.
"You guys ready?" I ask.
"Yeah," Ezekiel answers with a voice full of regret.
I turn and walk ahead, but it's not long until they're right beside me, one on each side, pressing tight into me. I'm back between them, where I once thought felt so right. It still does. It both scares and comforts me.
"I'll take these two through," I say to the escort.
We walk into the hall, and I veer left, to begin taking them to their table, but they both stop short. I turn to look at them, curious as to what's wrong, but I find both wearing expression of awe.
"This is amazing, Lexa," Jeremiah compliments. "I knew you would kick ass, but...Wow."
"Thank you. Granted, nothing goes wrong—"
"It won't," Ezekiel interrupts me. "Because we won't allow it to." He steps closer to me. I both want to move away and move nearer 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 if it seems...dimmed.
"Your table is over here," I state, voice slightly hoarse.
