I glance around the table. Misha’s good-looking. But Diego even more, almost stunning. Kind of like Dogger, actually, with that sharp jaw and solid nose.
He meets my eyes again, and I smile back, this time a little flirtier. I even throw in a wink. He gets flustered. Yeah. He’s definitely into me, big time.
Not to be shy, but I think they all kind of are. The problem is that none of them are therightperson. None of them would ever be.
But maybe… they can fill the time? Help me forget? Just for a little while. And that sucking, ripping emptiness in my chest will stop feeling like it’s devouring me from the inside out.
More questions follow as I start eating.
Diego asks me to repeat my last name. Then, "You related to Bay Nolan?"
I sigh. "Yeah. He’s my older brother."
More looks. "Whoa! I saw him perform this summer. Cool concert. Dude’s amazing. That voice! You sing too?"
And just like that, I smile again. Nod. Give more details. Engage in small talk.
Their eyes light up with even more interest. I’ve officially gone from random new kid to the brother of a local star.
Looks like I’m in.
So, I keep talking. Keep smiling like it’s my job. Because it’s better than the swallowing, fucking void. That goddamn hole in my chest that nothing can fill.
All I can do is cover it up with pretty, dumb smiles.
But it’s not me.
Not even close.
PRESENT DAY
A Year and a Half Later
"I’m bored," I grumble to Martin, leaning back in my chair.
Golden Eagle is supposed to be one of the most upscale restaurants in the city, but damn, it’s stiff as hell. All serious-faced waiters and big-shot businessmen coming in after meetings to eat calamari and caviar.
There are private booths with sliding glass doors so VIPs can talk without worrying about nosy alphas and omegas eavesdropping.
Martin rolls his eyes. "You’re always bored, Sun. Tell me something new. That’s getting old."
I scrunch my face at him and flip him off. One of the waiters sees it and gives me a tight-lipped grimace full of disapproval. Figures. My trashy behavior doesn’t really vibe with their whole posh aesthetic, but I couldn’t care less.
Martin leans over his plate and stares at his perfectly cooked steak like it’s hiding the secrets of the universe.
I don’t say anything, ’cause I’m over him. It’s probably time to find a new boyfriend. How long has it been? Three months? For me, that’s basically forever.
He glances at me, his dark brown eyes narrowing slightly.
"What’s with the face? You don’t have to look boredon purpose."
"We could’ve gone to that little grill on 22nd Avenue. At least they play decent music…"
"Too many bikers. The place reeks of sweaty leather jackets. And they stare!"
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, but at least it’snotboring."
Silence stretches between us. Finally, Martin mutters, "Why don’t you come up with something interesting for once? You always expect to be entertained, and when I do suggest something, you turn your nose up at it. Nothing ever pleases you."
