I straighten my dress, gazing across the large hall. People are laughing, dancing, eating—having fun. It’s a success, one that has been far easier than I’d expected thanks to Levi and Jerry working in the kitchen.

I slip back to the kitchen, where the two are orchestrating the event. Both have white jackets on, their sleeves rolled up as they share a mutual laugh.

“You’re such a fucker,” Jerry says before glancing in my direction. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you were back here, Brooke.” He glances at Levi, who’s dicing an onion, the blade of his knife racing through the vegetable at an alarming speed. I’ve come back several times to sneak in short previews of the two cooking. While they managed to do much of the prep in the couple of days leading up to the event, they’ve still been doing a lot of work today, allowing me to see all sorts of techniques and work that’s left me mesmerized. I’d never thought of cooking as being sexy, but Levi’s changed that perception as quickly as he did my previous one about loving suits.

“Don’t worry. I’ve called him worse.” I wink.

Jerry barks out a laugh.

“Come eat this,” Levi says.

I shake my head. “I need to get back to work. I just came back here to thank you guys again and see if I can do anything or, more accurately, get someone to come and help you guys with anything.”

“You need to eat something. What time did you get here this morning?”

“I’m good. I’m running on energy, relief, and copious amounts of caffeine.”

Levi scrapes the pile of onions he’s diced into a pan that sizzles and pops. “You’re going to pass out running around without eating.”

I can’t prevent my eyes from rolling. “I’ve had lots of practice.”

Jerry and Levi shift seamlessly. Jerry stirs the pan, and Levi sweeps a fork off a counter, extending it to me. “A couple of bites.”

“I appreciate it. Really. And this looks and smells amazing, and everyone is raving about it, but I’m vegetarian, so—”

Levi nods, waving me forward with a couple rolls of his fingers. “Brooke,” he says. “Come eat this. It’s vegan.”

I pull my chin back, surprised. I feel Jerry’s stare, prompting me to look in his direction.

“He’s been worrying about you. You should eat it so he’ll shut up.”

My cheeks heat, and my stomach does some sort of ridiculous flip. Levi lifts the fork a bit higher, and I move closer to accept it. Our fingers brush, and then he reaches for the plate beside him.

“Miss Renshaw?”

I turn, noticing Mr. Abergal’s brother, his distinctive dark hair and his broad shoulders that turn to look around the space that’s filled with servers and those prepping the plates and dishes going out.

I smile at Levi in apology and put the fork down before turning back to Mr. Abergal. “How can I help you, Mr. Abergal? Is everything okay?” I ask, my heels clicking against the tiles as I approach him.

He smiles. “You can start by calling me Allen instead of Mr. Abergal.” He shifts, raising an arm in an inviting stance as though expecting me to step beside him. While I’m being fueled by coffee and relief, alcohol and the energy from the celebration are fueling him.

I smile, knowing I’m likely giving him false hope as I add a giggle to ensure he’s not offended when I leave a wide gap between us. “Is everything okay?”

“You haven’t been dancing, and I happen to be a very good dancer.” His hand goes to his chest. He looks ten years younger than his brother, maybe more. He’s attractive, his olive-toned skin flawless like his physique and striking green eyes I’ve felt following me for much of the afternoon.

I smile again. Generally, it’s the single groomsman who will try to flirt. Parties and events similar to this are often benign because I spend my time working to be invisible as I ensure things are executed flawlessly, but the Abergal family had stopped by yesterday while I was doing final preparations of the space and had brought their extended family, introducing me to all twenty-eight members of the family and successfully creating the façade of a relationship between us. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the DJ. Have you tried the food yet? Isn’t it amazing?”

Allen steps closer, the alcohol reflecting in his glassy eyes. “Not as amazing as you.” His eyes sweep over me. “I mean, your dress.”

“Thanks,” I say when his gaze stops moving northward, stuck at my chest. “Why don’t you join the party, and I’ll check in with you shortly? I really can’t have you back here. With the food and hot stoves, it isn’t safe.”

Levi appears beside me, wiping his hands on a towel, his jaw flexing as he tips his chin higher. “Dean,” he says, lifting a hand in the air, his voice clear over the commotion in the back. A tall, lanky guy with a mop of dark curls looks up and then moves toward us. I recognize him from Levi’s bar that we stopped at on Wednesday. “Help him find his way back to the party, will you? And make sure he tries the tri-tip.”

Allen chuckles and shakes his head. Levi places a hand on my lower back on that spot. He doesn’t step closer or offer an excuse. It’s a challenge, silent and subtle yet distinct. Allen’s gaze tracks Levi, then me. He lifts his eyebrows, and Dean steps closer. “Right this way, sir.”

I should go with him. Follow a few paces behind so that I’m on neutral ground rather than choosing to stay behind—choosing a side. But Levi’s hand is like a magnet on my skin, holding me in place until he slowly lowers it to his side. I slide a hand down my dress, straightening the ivory fabric. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jerry watching us, his attention volleying between us.

“You guys are doing such a phenomenal job. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything. I’m just going to check and make sure everything is running smoothly out front, and I’ll be back in a bit to see if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Jerry calls. “We’ve got this handled. You just make sure you’re being safe, and if you need help, come find one of us.”

I brush away his comment with a wave of my hand. “He’s harmless.”

“Harmless as a grenade.” Jerry moves his attention back to the food he’s cooking.

I take a step away from Levi, my gaze lowered because I’m not ready to see the emotion swimming in his eyes that will likely provide me with a slew of conflicting thoughts. The background noise of dishes and chatter is muted in comparison to my departure, which is deafening.

The rest of the event is flawless. Guests leave after elation tips from their emptied glasses, forks, and smiles, bringing me a sense of relief that never penetrates far beneath the surface, where dozens of conflicting emotions swim.

“Do you want to change, or are you ready?”

I turn to find Levi in a heather-gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans that appear to have been made for him.

“Sorry?” I ask, shaking my head in an attempt to knock the image of him free.

“You said you wanted to check out those bars nearby.”

“Oh, yeah. Yes. Yeah…” My thoughts flutter faster than my eyelashes. It’s ridiculous how distracted and off-balance I feel, yet right now, one smile or promise would likely knock me clean off this axis I’ve been working to remain on. “I have a change of clothes in the back. I just need to touch base with the cleaning crew, and then I can get changed.”

“What can I do to help?”

My balance veers a little more.

“Nothing,” I tell him. “You’ve been perfect. I just need to ensure they have everything. It will take me two minutes.”

His blue gaze travels across my face, and then he nods.

I spend too much time thinking about how I’m walking. If my steps are too wide or quick as I walk to where the crew is preparing to get everything cleaned up.

Once everything is verified and confirmed, I head to the back where my bags are stowed. I close the bathroom door, locking it as I lean against the sturdy surface, my heart thrumming in my chest.

I extract my phone and send a message to Felicity.

I wait for her returned message, desperate for a distraction. While I wait, I change, stripping out of my dress and replacing the formal piece with a different dress that is shorter and more casual. I add a couple of pieces of jewelry and stare at my reflection. My eyes are wide and anxious. Each moment I spend with Levi, the walls of our relationship realign, and with each brick set in place, another one is broken loose. I don’t know what I’m feeling toward him any more than I do what he’s feeling toward me, and it’s driving me insane.

I check my phone a final time, not finding the response from Felicity I was hoping to find. I drop it into my purse and grab my bags, heading out to find Levi leaning against the wall, his head ducked as he stares at his phone. He looks up as I shift my bags, his gaze lingering on mine for a fraction too long before lowering to my dress. He wets his lips and then bites the corner of his lower lip.

“Ready?” I ask.

He nods, reaching for my bag. It’s strange to have him take the slight weight, leaving me with even more thoughts that weigh far more.

When we reach my car, I pop the trunk, and Levi sets my bag inside, then closes it. “Why don’t we take my car? That way we don’t have to worry about parking or getting separated.”

Separation is exactly what I need right now, but still I nod.

Levi tips his chin, and we walk to his car, neither of us talking until we’re inside the flashy vehicle. “Why do you look so nervous?”

“I feel like I’m going to hurt your car.” I look around at all the shiny details, the flawless leather seats. “It’s so … clean.”

Levi throws his head back, laughing before putting the car in gear, the engine pulsing.

We stop at a bar that’s packed with people looking to share more than a conversation. The music is loud, the bass throbbing through my limbs and chest. “Let’s get a drink,” Levi says, his hand finding that exact spot on my lower back that now pulses for his touch.

This is a transition from the last time we went out together, when we’d hovered just inside the door and even when Chelsea had joined us, we’d meandered to the bar to look over the details. It screams danger.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, looking from me to Levi. Levi tips his chin, nodding toward me.

“I … I’ll have a Long Island, and,” I lean against the bar, the easy smile on Levi’s lips making it too easy to slip into the role of when we were at the club the first night we met. “And he will have a snakebite.”

Levi grins. “Look at you, memorizing my drink.”

“You cooked vegetarian food for me,” I say.

He nods. “Actually, I cooked vegan food for you.” He licks his lips.

Neither of us mentions that I didn’t eat because that would bring the discussion to how Levi had come over when Mr. Abergal came and invited me to dance with him.

Our drinks are set in front of us, and before I can reach for my purse, Levi extends a credit card.

“I owe you,” I tell him. “Let me get these.”

He shakes his head and waves the bartender forward to charge him. “You paid us. It was a business transaction.”

“I’ve hired caterers for last-minute functions, and there are always additional fees. You didn’t charge any.”

A wave of his cologne hits me as he lifts his shoulder with a shrug. “You aren’t charging me extra to help do the grand opening of my bar, yet in general, you hire someone at least twenty weeks in advance. We’re even.”

I don’t argue. My attempts to smile and mention him cooking for me were my attempts at flirting, and it’s clear I wasn’t successful in my attempts. I raise my glass. “Well, here’s to you and Jerry for saving the day.”

“It looked like there was a lot more involved in this day than just food. How about we toast to a successful celebration.”

“You argue a lot. Just accept my compliment.”

He grins, his blue eyes swimming with words I’d bet my dress on being further challenges. He doesn’t voice them though, clinking his glass against mine. We each take a long drink. I should order some water. I’m so parched that the cold and sweet flavor of the Long Island goes down like candy.

“Did you always want to be an event planner?”

I shake my head. “No. I sort of stumbled into it. Felicity’s parents had hired a wedding planner when she got engaged to her husband, Dan, and the woman was a total flake, so I started to help out. I was twenty and had just moved into an apartment with a friend from high school and was working part-time, so our apartment was a disaster. I mean, there was stuff everywhere. I’m pretty sure my friend was ready to revoke my friend status because of how much stuff I’d stored and assembled in there.” I release a short laugh, recalling those months of chaos. “And one day when I was at the hotel where the reception was being held, I met your mom. One of her employees hadn’t shown up, and she was trying to set up a bunch of chair covers, and I offered to help her. Then a couple weeks later was Felicity’s wedding, and I ran into your mom again. She actually crashed the wedding.”

Levi’s eyes close as he laughs. “She crashed the wedding?”

I nod. “She even sampled the food and the cake.”

He laughs harder.

“Then she offered me a job.”

“And the rest is history, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

He traces the side of his glass with his thumb, brushing away a couple beads of condensation. It’s mesmerizing to watch. “What did you want to be before that?”

I shake my head, pulling my attention from watching his hands. “I didn’t know what I wanted to be. I was going to school to get my degree in communications—with absolutely zero idea what I wanted to be—and then learned I was decent at planning weddings.”

“If my mom hired you on the spot, you were more than decent.”

This time I shrug, taking another drink. I’m great at my job, but saying so—especially to my boss’s son—seems beyond narcissistic. “What do you think of this place?” I ask, looking around. “It has a nice ambiance.”

Levi’s attention remains on me. “Are you over him?”

“Over who?” I meet his gaze. “The guy at the bar mitzvah? He wasn’t… I wasn’t…”

A smile curls Levi’s lips, and then he bites that inner corner once again. He shakes his head. “Your ex. Gabe.”

I blink several times, attempting to rearrange my thoughts that are clinging to the hope he’s asking me this because he’s still interested in me. “Yeah,” I tell him, nodding. I take a deep breath, shedding what’s left of my discomfort surrounding the subject. “What he did really hurt, but these past couple of months have taught me a lot. I think we’d become complacent, and I always thought that was just a normal progression of a relationship, you know? You become comfortable enough that you don’t have to try or work hard at things. Now, living with Felicity and Dan, I realize they’re always trying. They do little things for each other, and still play grab-ass when their kids aren’t looking. He still buys her flowers, and she still tells him she loves him a dozen times a day.

“I think Gabe likely recognized this first, probably when he began having feelings for someone else. I don’t fault him for it; I just wish he’d ended things with me first.”

“You’re being very diplomatic about this. Most people in your shoes would be wishing herpes on their ex.” He takes a drink, still watching my reactions.

“At times, I’m angry with him. Angry that he hurt me, angry that his decision caused me to change so much in so little time.” I sigh. “And I’m mad that he betrayed my trust. I’m not great at trusting people, and I trusted him. The breakup has left me questioning things I didn’t before—and I’m angry about that.”

He takes another drink. “You shouldn’t. Fuck him. If he wasn’t man enough to try harder or tell you what he was thinking, he deserves herpes.”

I laugh. “Do you wish herpes on your ex?”

Levi tilts his head with thought. “No. But I wish I did. She went on a business trip to England, and ‘fell in love’ with someone she works with. She swore it was over, and I believed her, but then it happened again, and again, and again,” he sighs. “But then she moved out, and I realized we were always spending time with others. We barely ever were alone, and it took her leaving for me to realize that was because we didn’t even like each other. We had nothing in common and barely could find anything to even talk about. I don’t know how we’d even ended up together, because we were essentially strangers.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. We never should have been together, let alone stayed together. She did me a favor.” A woman with a low-cut blouse walks past us, staring at Levi as she goes. It’s blatant and bold. I reach for my nearly emptied glass and finish it, waiting for Levi’s reaction. But he doesn’t even turn in her direction, even after she’s passed us and is still looking back, her neck craned.

“I know we’re here on business, kind of, but you’re welcome to…” I can’t formulate the words to tell him he can go flirt with another woman, so I simply wave a hand in her direction.

“Welcome to what?” He leans closer. The noise of the bar has increased as it’s gotten later.

“You worked all day. I don’t want you to feel like you have to sacrifice your night, too.”

“You almost kissed me a couple of weeks ago.” He pauses. “On the street.”

“Actually, I almost let you kiss me.” I add the same pause. “On the street.”

He smiles. “Is that your attempt at admitting you still have feelings for me?”

“I never said I don’t—just that I shouldn’t. That we shouldn’t.”

“Because of my mother?” His question lacks inflection.

“That and my job. I love my job. I’ve worked there for nearly a decade, and if I ever want to move out of Felicity’s guest room, I’m going to need to continue having said job.”

“So, your job is the concern?”

That makes me sound so cold. So distant. I think of the greatest stories and quotes that have left impressions on me over the past near-decade of wedding planning about love conquering all and being the most influential and powerful source in lives. “Not just that…”

He cocks his head. “What else?”

“I know things are different and that being raised by my grandma likely stunted more than just my awesome sense of fashion, but I don’t know how to casually date, and while I’ve tried to convince myself I can and that it might even be a great thing to try, I know it’s not me. While I don’t consider myself the jealous type, I hate the idea of wondering who else you might be kissing or sleeping with or even sharing a connection with, and after everything with Gabe, I just…” I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Are you asking me to sleep exclusively with you?”

My cheeks radiate embarrassment, and I pray the darkened bar helps conceal the fact as I shake my head. “That’s not what I said.”

The bartender appears, Levi’s credit card in hand.

Levi shakes his head. “Start a tab for us.”

I hate that my failed relationship has me questioning things like my appearance and others’ intentions, but I can’t keep ignoring the niggling question of why we’re here drinking when he owns a bar just a short drive away where alcohol would be free and others would know who he was.

With a single nod, the bartender disappears. Levi shifts beside me, leaning on the bar so his chest is open to me.

“I thought we were checking out the four spots over here.”

He shrugs. “Quite frankly, checking out these other bars was just an excuse to spend some time with you. I know more about the inner workings of bars and clubs than I’ll ever need to. I already know the design and flavor I’ll be using.”

I shake my head. “Then why’d you hire Chelsea?”

“Because if I didn’t, my mother would be a pain in my ass.”

I clear my throat and take another gulp of my drink. “By the way, how was your date?”

He draws his chin back. “My date?”

“With Chelsea.”

“I told you that wasn’t a date.”

My lungs expand with relief. “Does she know that?”

He swallows. “All we discussed was business.”

Frustration churns in my stomach. He has to be aware of how much she likes him. It wasn’t as though she was discreet. “So you’re hiring her?”

“You said I need her.”

“You claimed you didn’t need either of us.”

He lifts another shoulder with a casual wave. “Sometimes, I forget that though my mother can be a cold-hearted bitch, she likes to feel needed.”

“But she’s not working with you.”

Levi’s lips tip into a smile that accentuates the fullness of his bottom lip. “I planned to tell her I’d make things work when she told me she couldn’t, but she insisted I meet you. I never thought that decision was going to kick me in the ass.”

His admission has me shaking my head. “So, you’re paying me to ‘help’ you so you can spend time with me? You don’t care about my professional skills at all?”

He tips his head, looking at me carefully. “I feel like I just entered land mine territory…”

“No, I…” I reach for my glass and empty half of it in one drink. I don’t know what I’m feeling or how to vocalize it. I knew I wasn’t bringing much to this deal, but I’ve spent so many hours researching and talking with other professionals so I could offer something.

“Your mom would kill me if she found out there was anything going on between us. My office would be a bloodbath. Then she’d fire me.”

“Don’t be dramatic. She can’t fire you if you’re dead.”

I glare at him, and he laughs.

“We should sleep together. It might change your mind.”

I roll my eyes. “You should just keep saying things like that. It helps me to like you less.”

“What makes you like me more? I’ve been told my best feature is my eyes.” He lifts his eyebrows several times then purses his lips like a fish and goes cross-eyed. My laugh is instant and loud and seemingly fuels Levi’s silly side as he begins making the most ridiculous expressions, sticking out his tongue and contorting his face.

“Keep going. This is all helping to make me forget.”

He stops. “Forget what?”

My cheeks flush as I shake my head. “Forget to like you,” I lie. It’s the constant memory of our kiss that keeps me up late into the night when reality and consciousness aren’t able to apply reason.

“It must be really hard to forget. Want me to send you some selfies so you can constantly remind yourself?” He pulls out his phone and proceeds to take a couple of pictures of his ridiculous expressions, making me chuckle. Then his arm wraps around my shoulder and he pulls me against his chest. His other arm is extended, holding the phone at a distance with us framed in the center.

I stare at his image on the phone while feeling his body against mine and struggle to breathe.

“Stop being difficult and smile.”

I lean closer to him so my entire face is in the picture and smile. “They’re wrong,” I tell him. “Your eyes aren’t people’s favorite attribute because they’re so attractive—it’s because they say more than you’re willing to.”

He lowers his phone and looks at me. “I’d say the same about you.”

Because he’s right, and I can’t dispute it, I finish my drink. “I question if your interest in me stems from the challenge. Because I’ve told you we can’t be together.”

Levi leans closer to me, the scent of beer from his drink filling my nose. “You’re misreading everything if that’s what you think.” He stares at me, his gaze so intense it again feels like a physical weight.

“I’m kind of a mess,” I admit, swallowing the rest of my words and forcing myself to lay it all out for him. “Gabe and I were friends for three years before we began dating. I kind of suck at trusting people.”

“That’s another thing we have in common.” He takes another drink, his sips small.

I laugh. “You say that like it’s a good thing. Two people who don’t know how to trust sounds like a disaster.”

“Most people are fucked up and don’t know how to trust—we’re just honest about it.”

“Would you like another?” the bartender asks, grabbing my empty glass. I nod, knowing he’ll go away faster.

“I’m a workaholic,” I tell Levi when the bartender turns his attention to someone else. “I’m also ridiculously independent, and as a fun reminder, I currently reside in my best friend’s guest room.”

Levi lifts a brow. “Is this your attempt to scare me?”

“This is me being honest.”

He reaches for his glass, taking a longer pull before dropping it with a thud against the polished counter. “I’m also a workaholic. I hate most people, and I talk during movies.”

I gape. “You talk through movies?”

He laughs. “This is what I’m talking about. Everyone has their own share of issues. All that matters is if you can accept the other person’s.”

The bartender hands me a filled glass, and I take another drink to fill my confidence. “Why didn’t you kiss me the other day? In the parking lot.”

“Because you hesitated. I’d leaned forward, and you didn’t.”

“I did!”

His lips snake into a smile as he shakes his head. “You didn’t.”

“We should be friends,” I tell him, gripping my glass in an attempt to ground myself and not get lost as I stare into his eyes, seeing a million possibilities that I want to make promises and vows upon.

“Probably.” Levi leans closer. He raises a hand, gripping the back of my neck with the pads of his fingers so that the palm of his hand fits against my jaw.

I hold my breath, waiting for him to kiss me. Praying it will be as great as the first kiss.

“Excuse me. Do you know what time it is?” The same woman who had eye-stalked Levi stands beside us, her cleavage and wide smile on display.

Levi shakes his head and moves so he’s standing even closer to me.

The woman looks me over once, then gives a contrived smile before taking a couple of steps back.

A grin tugs at Levi’s lips. I wonder how apparent my jealousy and disappointment is. “Are you ready to go to the next bar?”

I glance at the other woman a final time, discovering her talking to another man, her eyes still on Levi. “She’s basically having sex with you with her eyes.”

Levi leans forward, his breath against my ear. My heart stutters and then takes off at a sprint. He invades my senses. His cologne is a drug as I glance at his shoulder in front of me, seeing the edges of his tattoos peeking through the neckline. “I only see you,” he says.

I’m a puddle. I can’t recall why I’m not supposed to like him or why he shouldn’t be flirting with me or if anything has a right or wrong answer.

“Let’s go to the next stop,” he says, sliding his unfinished drink back toward the bar.