He adjusts it with a grin, the slim fabric gold, like his namesake. “Thought I’d be fancy. And don’t youdarego change. You look great.”
“I look underdressed compared to you.”
He scoffs, tugging his jacket sleeves straight. “Please. You look phenomenal. Grab one of those for me?”
I look where he’s pointing and spot a bouquet of deep red roses sitting atop our table. “Where’d these come from?”
Ezra sounds smug. “Me. Picked them up earlier. Happy premiere, Gray.”
I shake my head. The flowers are beautiful. A good three dozen of them if not more. “Such a sap,” I say to myself, reaching for the vase. Careful of the thorns, I pluck a single rose free from the rest and bring it over to Ezra.
He grabs the kitchen shears and snips off the end of the stem, leaving only a couple inches of green below the starkly red flower. Hand on my lapel, he tucks the rose into my front pocket. “Perfect.”
I clear my throat. “You know, for being a fellow aromantic, you’re quite the romantic.”
Ezra barks a laugh, winking at me as he pats my chest. “Call it romance. Call it what you will. All I know is you’re the only person I’ve ever bought flowers for.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It is. Would you like to see my credit card receipts?”
“Not necessary,” I assure him, knowing full well he’d show me his purchases from the last twenty-plus years if I asked. My phone dings, and I pull it free, pressing the button for the gate to open. “Our car is here.”
Ezra smooths down his jacket as we walk toward the door. “Are you ready to watch yourself off me in cold blood up on the big screen, Fox?”
“Excuse me,” I say, indignant. “You drew your gun first.”
“I didn’t aim it at you!”
“Semantics. You were the bad guy.”
“Bad is so subjective.” Says one of the most golden-hearted people I know. Ezra’s expression sobers quickly, turning thoughtful. “This is the first time people will see us together since we announced…”
“Being together?”
“Together adjacent.”
I snort a laugh. “For all intents and purposes, you’re my damn boyfriend now, Ezra Gold.”
His eyes go soft. “How about…partner?”
I mull that over, liking the sound of it. “Partner. Yeah. That fits, doesn’t it?”
He nods, checking his pockets one last time before grabbing the doorknob. With a smirk I’d recognize anywhere, he twists his wrist and opens the door.
Flashes go off from just outside the fence, paparazzi and reporters alike stationed outside our home as they have been for weeks. We’ve given the media very little to splash across the tabloids, not for lack of trying on their part. The frenzy will die down eventually, but for now, eating at home and going out as little as possible has helped us avoid the sharks.
As Ezra said, this will be the first time we’re appearing together in public.
Ezra reaches for the back door of our ride, but before either of us can get in the vehicle, one of the members of the crowd rushes forward. I’m absolutely shocked, considering I’ve never seen a single person try to breach the walls surrounding Ezra’s home before. Ezra himself goes still in an instant, snapping to attention as the woman’s camera flashes inches from my face.
“Grayson,” she says in a rush. “What do you have to say about the end of your relationship with Camilla? Was Ezra the reason for your split?”
“Hey.” Ezra’s voice is harsh, and he moves to stand between us.
The woman doesn’t get the hint, her camera clicking away as she tries to edge around Ezra. The heavy device clips my shoulder in her haste, and I internally groan.
Ezra is the nicest person there is. Until you piss him off.
