“You’re human,” he replied. “We have this inane desire to belong to something that is greater than we are on our own. That desire is so strong that we can fool ourselves into believing things that aren’t true.”
“So, I’m not crazy?” I cracked a smile.
“Definitely not crazy.”
His smile was comforting and I reminded myself for the hundredth time that everything would be okay.
I rested my head on his shoulder and then his head rested on top of mine.
A smile touched my lips.
I’d missed this—having someone that understood me completely, even when I didn’t know myself.
I LOCKED THE door leading into my shop, switched the sign to CLOSED, and shut the blinds.
I was exhausted, and certain that this had been the longest week of my life. It had seemed unending as I dealt with phone calls from family and endless Facebook notifications from people wanting to know why Braden and I broke up so soon before our wedding. The gestures would have been nice, if I hadn’t believed that most of them were only asking because they were nosy and didn’t really care that I’d been hurt. I told them all that we decided mutually that we weren’t meant to be. It seemed unfair to let the scumbag off the hook so easily, but I didn’t need everybody knowing all of my business and talking behind my back.
I straightened the clothes and shoes, making sure everything was in order for the next business day.
I closed out the register and turned off the lights.
I headed into my office and sat down in the chair behind my desk, letting out a hefty sigh. I glanced at all of the papers on my desk, the numbers and information blurring together. I’d planned to stay a little while longer, but I was beginning to think that wasn’t the smartest idea. I’d probably end up messing something up and having to start my paperwork over again tomorrow.
I decided to leave it until tomorrow and stood, grabbing my purse.
I reached for my car keys and flicked off the light on my desk.
I’d only taken one step when I heard someone knock on the front door of the store.
Oh, shit.
I froze where I stood, holding my breath.
The knock sounded again.
I had no idea who could possibly be at the door and I certainly wasn’t going to check.
My phone buzzed in my purse and I thanked God that I always kept it on vibrate. If the person outside was a murderer I didn’t want to alert them to my location.
I checked the screen and read a text from Ezra.
EZRA: I’m outside.
I breathed a sigh of relief and put a hand over my racing heart, silently scolding myself for my silly thoughts.
I hurried to the front door and opened it.
He stood there in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. His dark curly hair tumbled over his forehead, shielding his eyes.
“You scared me,” I scolded him.
“Sorry.” He appeared sheepish. “Are you done?” He asked, flicking his finger towards the darkened store. “I thought we could get dinner and celebrate.”
“What are we celebrating?” I asked.
“The fact that it’s been a week.” He shrugged, toeing the ground with his booted foot.
“A week since I’ve been dumped?” I raised a brow.
“Well, it sounds insensitive when you say it like that,” he grumped, brushing his long fingers through his shaggy hair. “You’ve been strong through all of this and I think you deserve to celebrate that.” He leaned against the side of the building and lowered his head as he looked at me. “Don’t you?”
I tapped my lip. “Are you buying?”
He snorted. “Of course.”
“Then yes, I do deserve to celebrate, and I plan on getting shit-faced.” I pumped my fist in the air.
He shook his head and tried to hide a smile. “Are you ready to go?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I just need to lock the back door first. Are we going in your car?”
“I thought we could walk.” He pointed across the street to where one of my favorite local restaurants sat.
“Wait here.” I held up a finger, telling him I’d only be a second.
I quickly locked the back door and the door to my office before rejoining him outside. I stopped, locking that one as well.
Ezra shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as we crossed the street onto the back patio of the local pub. You seated yourself, and we managed to snag a seat on the upper deck.
Within a minute a waitress hurried over with menus and silverware.
“What can I get you guys to drink?”
“Alcohol,” I answered. “You can surprise me.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. “I’ll have the bartender make you our special…it’s kind of strong.”
“Perfect,” I grinned.
“For you?” She turned her attention to Ezra and her mouth fell open. “Oh my God!” She jumped up and down—I kid you not. “You’re Ezra, from Willow Creek! Oh my God, I can’t believe this! I mean, I knew you guys lived here, but I never thought I’d meet one of you. Wow! This is amazing! Can I get a picture and an autograph?”
Ezra flashed me an apologetic smile before smiling full watt at the waitress. “Absolutely. Anything for a fan.”
I sighed and looked around at the attention her scream had drawn our way. In no time we would be swarmed.
She pulled her cellphone out of her apron and he posed for a picture. She then gave him a pen and he signed a piece of paper on her notepad.
“Thank you so much!” She gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“You didn’t get mine!” Ezra called after her.
She quickly did an about-face, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry about that. What can I get you?”
“Water,” he replied, “and an order of nachos. They’re her favorite.” He pointed at me.
She glanced at me and I could tell she’d already forgotten my existence.
“I’m sorry,” Ezra mouthed as a group of girls rushed our table.
I shrugged. I was used to this happening when we went out in public. Usually it happened in L.A. and not here, but it was the same thing. Besides, a bunch of squealing teenage girls were nothing I couldn’t handle.
Ezra posed for picture after picture and signed autographs. Our waitress had to fight her way through the mob to give us our drinks and nachos. Then I had to yell over the screaming girls to give her my order, and Ezra’s too, since he was currently occupied and couldn’t order for himself.
Before the waitress left I grabbed her arm. “Would you mind getting management to break this up?” I asked.
The girls had already gotten what they came for, so I wasn’t being rude, but they had overstayed their welcome.
“I’ll send the manager over,” she assured me.
I took a sip of whatever concoction she’d brought me. Whoa. She hadn’t been lying. It was strong.
I sipped some more and the burn gradually disappeared.
The guy that was obviously the manager showed up and escorted the girls away.
“Your ticket is on me. I’m so sorry for this inconvenience,” he apologized.
Ezra shrugged, sitting down once more. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to it.” He smoothed his fingers through his ruffled hair—one of the girls had mused it. I hated that so many people treated the guys like they weren’t even human.
“Still,” the manager said, “I’d like to take care of it.”
“Of course.” Ezra smiled and nodded. He hated getting special treatment so I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up leaving a wad of cash on the table before we left.
The manager smiled in goodbye and I was finally alone with Ezra.
“Is anybody else joining us?” I asked. It wasn’t unusual for the other guys to join us, and Emma of course, and I guess Mathias’ wife now—but I’d only ever met her once and the meeting had been brief since that happened to be the time Ezra punched Braden. Braden had spent half the night bitching about that and had continued to grumble for a good month afterwards. He was such a diva.