Page 24 of Yours Temporarily

Laying my forehead against the window, I wince at the sting of rejection and question my worth after this abrupt end.

Still, I cling to Monday’s meeting for café furniture shopping, my only remaining thread of hope. Until then, I’ll keep my distance. He probably needs some space.

CHAPTER 9

Jeremy

Monday dawns with the harsh truth that the world doesn’t pause even after a weekend as surreal in my memory as a dream. In the bathroom, I fiddle with my tie, a mechanical gesture that’s become second nature. However, I cannot focus on the day’s agenda. Zuri invades my consciousness, her image haunting me through two restless nights. Memories of the lilt of her laughter, the velvety touch of her skin, and the shimmer of her eyes linger. Longing shivers through me over my struggle to keep my desires at bay, the battle within not to capture her lips with mine.

The truth hits harder than I dare admit—the thought of plunging back into the depths of intimacy terrifies me to my core, especially after my last venture left me nursing a heart so fragmented I feared it was beyond repair. Yet, with Zuri, the outlook is shifting. Our paths crossed briefly. But now, she’s transcending the boundaries of our contrived romantic charade and morphing into something genuine, stirring excitement and dread.

I retreat to my bedroom, and my phone breaks the silence, a reminder flashing from the dresser. It’s about the café, the furniture shopping I agreed to do with Zuri. My gut twists. Facing her with my emotions in such disarray feels impossible, and I have nothing tangible to offer her. With reluctance, my fingers type out a message.

Jeremy: Sorry I can’t go furniture shopping. I’ll connect you with a designer to help you.

I’m busy, and Zuri is well aware of my long working hours anyway.

I press send and silence the voice in my head urging me to reconsider. Then the phone rings, sending a jolt through me. My stomach performs acrobatics as I brace for Zuri’s response. However, it soon relaxes. It’s just my brother calling.

“Gavin!” I exhale as my tension lifts.

“Don’t tell me I interrupted another one of your early morning workout sessions.”

“If you count pacing and stressing as a workout, then yes.” I drift toward the window overlooking the traffic. Despite my penthouse’s proximity to the office, I prefer the solitude of my car for the late-night journeys home.

“Been waiting for the fiancée update—”

“I know.” I cut Gavin off, wincing over not keeping him in the loop. Zuri’s sudden presence in my life—Would I call it a distraction or a revelation? “It’s been hectic.” Yes, that’s what I’d call it.

“Mom’s been hounding me about this mysterious fiancée of yours. What’s going on?”

I’ve never been one to withhold anything from Gavin, yet I’ve hesitated to bring up Zuri and this web of pretense we’ve spun.

Exhaling deeply, I massage the tension at the back of my neck. “You know Mom. She’s already making ridiculous sleeping arrangements—like Sonya bunking in your room.” I grumble at the absurdity of our mother’s plans, which place my ex uncomfortably close to my room.

Gavin laughs off Mom’s meddling ways, even her ludicrous hopes of him rekindling with his ex-girlfriend, Lucky, over his bride-to-be, Hope.

“And yet, you’re letting her orchestrate your wedding.”

“Try living in the same town as her.” He laughs, but it rings hollow, betraying his resignation to our mother’s influence. “But seriously, bro, where are you going to get a fiancée this fast? One willing to travel to Colorado for a week.”

“Actually, I’ve found someone. Zuri.” Oh man, listen to how naturally her name flows into our conversation.

“Zuri?”

I chuckle at his astonishment. Then I move about my room to mask the underlying emotions tied to her name. I share how we met, but I carefully select my words. I slide on my watch, needing to keep busy whenever I talk about her. It’s my tactic to maintain emotional detachment.

Despite this, when I recount our staged date and the not-so-staged dance, my brother seems to sense the depth of my turmoil. “It doesn’t sound like you're pretending, buddy. Are you sure there isn’t more to it?”

I falter. Probably a good moment to divert the topic to his wedding plans. “I’m not staying under the same roof with Sonya.” I clench the phone and grind my teeth. “Who does Mom think she is to control everyone’s life?”

“Chill, bro. I’ll talk to Hope. I’m sure she’ll host Zuri, and I’ll persuade Mom that my best man needs to stay in my house.”

“Thanks.” A bit of the tightness coiling my muscles loosens, and I flex my grip on the phone, rubbing at the pinched skin where its sleek lines indented my flesh. It’s best we avoid any scenarios that might throw Zuri into unwelcome attention or, worse, make her the project of my overenthusiastic mother and Sonya.

As Gavin lists the relatives descending upon the wedding, I’m only half engaged. His earlier observation again gnaws at me, unveiling a truth I’m not prepared to confront.

“Glad you’ve got yourself that fake fiancée already. Mom’s likely to pay you a visit any day.”

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