Page 43 of Yours Temporarily

She rolls her eyes. “At least, the party is almost over.”

That argument might have me in the middle—a battle I’m keen to avoid since Nico is sort of my friend too.

As we eat cake and others get second servings, Damien tilts his head back, laughter booming as he shares a moment with Nico and Jeremy. It’s the food, undoubtedly, that weaves us closer together.

Shortly later, people mill around the tables as we pack leftovers for everyone to take home.

“We need to make this a habit.” His tone light, Damien seals a disposable container and hands it to Jill. He nods at Jeremy, his expression sincere. “But next time, you two are up against my team.”

“I can guarantee Zuri and I can outplay you.” Jeremy hands Wes his share of leftovers.

Wes raises his container in salute. “As long as Zuri’s in charge of the food, count me in any day.”

“You just saved me from another night of takeout,” Nico chimes in, his grin wide. “Count me in for hangouts like this.”

“Here’s to Zuri’s café.” Naina lifts her water glass. A collective cheer rings out, food containers and glasses clinking in testament to our unity and friendship old and new.

“And many more nights like this.” Damien’s sincerity tugs at my heart. Now, I’m faced with another dilemma. I could unravel the lie or nurture my faint hope Jeremy and I might truly fall in love and eliminate the need to correct any wrongs.

CHAPTER 16

Jeremy

Sunday night wraps us in warmth inside my brother Gavin’s house while we dine with him and his fiancée, Hope. Zuri and I arrived in Pleasant View two hours ago, which gave them ample time to get acquainted. The dinner table is still flowing with half-devoured exotic dishes Hope made for us. Now, our stomachs satisfied, we sit surrounded by the lingering aromas. The pendant lights cast a warm glow over us and illuminate the open space stretching into the living room.

Hope is recounting her experiences since she arrived in the States six months ago. “Gavin’s made it easy for me.” Her voice carries a blend of African and British inflections, her skin, a shade deeper than Zuri’s, glows under the light, and her deep affection for Gavin warms her dark eyes. “The biggest challenge has been adjusting to the winter.”

“Yet, you’re always eager to hit the slopes every weekend.” Gavin nudges her shoulder, and she’s so delicate I almost warn my brother to be careful. But she’s proved her spunk, and besides, I’ve seen his tender care for her. Even now, his voice is soft, and his eyes, blue like mine, shine with affection.

“That’s because I want to be confident on skis before the snow season ends.” She spreads out her hands, including us. “Maybe we can all go skiing before Jeremy and Zuri head back to California.”

“Definitely.” I give Zuri’s shoulder a reassuring tap, my hand resting behind her chair. In her yellow top with dark leggings, she appears casual for a relaxed night, but uncertainty now glosses her eyes.

“I’m rarely around snow, let alone ski.” She bites her full lower lip. “Unless watching the Winter Olympics counts?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.” The idea of being on the slopes with her excites me.

“Gavin taught me in January.” Hope recounts her experience. “I’m not great at it yet, but it’s fun. You’ll love it.”

“Yes, you will.” I wink, then sense my brother assessing me.

When I look at him, he has that knowing smile as he asks, “You never told me how your engagement party went.”

I mentioned the party during our phone call the night before we gathered with our friends.

“Zee should give you the details.” I nod toward Hope, who’s now leaning forward, eager for how we handled a fake-engagement party.

“Why me?” Zuri asks.

“You’re more into the details than I am.” She was the mastermind behind the party. My role was mere support, following her lead.

“My friends already know Jeremy and I are a pretend couple.” Zuri’s hands animate her story while Gavin rubs Hope’s back as they listen. “I couldn’t say no when they wanted to throw us a party.”

“We ended up hosting the party ourselves.” I chime in, my arm resting behind Zuri. “And we didn’t just host. We cooked and served everyone.”

“It was buffet style.” Zuri turns my way with the gentle smile that always stirs something deep inside me. “Okay, we did put in some effort to prepare the meals.”

“She wouldn’t let me hire a caterer.” My protest is half-hearted, a playful jab at her independence, even though she was wise to win over people to spread the word.

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