Page 96 of Heart So Hollow

“Ethan,” he replies and shakes it before turning to Barrett to introduce himself.

The dark haired one rests his arm on the back of my chair and leans into my ear, “Wells,” he offers his other hand with a smile.

I turn and lean back slightly so I can see him before shaking his hand, “Brett.”

“Oh,” Barrett nods to my drink, “did you send that over?”

Wells looks down at the gin and tonic in front of me and shakes his head, “No,” and without missing a beat, he plucks the glass off the table, “sorry about their luck, whoever they are.”

My stomach drops as I watch him set the full glass down at a recently vacated table behind us. Seconds later, another group snatches up the seats and it’ll only be a matter of time before the spent glasses—and my full one—are cleared away.

But what if whoever sent the drink is still watching?

Wells turns back to me and bows his head with a grin, “A better man would approach you and just ask what you want.”

Shit, this is not good.

I plaster a smile on my face and try to conceal the dread overtaking me, “Thank you,” my voice sounds normal, but my mind is racing, “but as a general rule, I don’t accept drinks from people I don’t know.”

“That’s smart,” his eyes wander around the room before settling back on me, “in that case, I’ll just ask you again later.”

Fan-fucking-tastic.

A year ago, I would’ve been all too happy for Wells and his toned arms and chiseled pecs to step off the pages of GQ and set up camp next to me at this table. I would’ve been ecstatic when Ethan waved a couple more of his entourage over to join us. It would’ve been a magical night filled with flirtation, fine drinks, and maybe even some fucking. But my engagement ring and the creepy napkin drawing I just received indicate that it’s just not meant to be. And as soon as I feel Wells’s fingers leave the back of my chair and glide up and down my arm, my anxiety hits a fever pitch.

But then I get an idea.

Maybe I can use Wells to my advantage. I’ve known him for all of five seconds, but he looks like he could be intimidating. If Colson is the one who sent me the drink, how would he know that Wells is not Bowen—my fiancé?

But would Wells even go along with that?

Every option feels icky. But being targeted from the shadows feels ickier, even if I know who it might be. And the thought of fleeing in fear and ruining my night out with Barrett and Anna makes me too angry to even consider. I shouldn’t have to rely on the intimidating posture of another man—who I also don’t know—to feel safe, but here we are.

I turn over my shoulder and tap Wells’s chest with my knuckle, “Hey?”

He leans in close to hear me, his cheek brushing against my hair. His cologne or aftershave smells like vanilla and spice.

“I’m going to be honest,” I begin, “I have a fiancé, but there’s a guy that’s been following me and I think he’s here. I don’t know where he is, but I’m just saying, if you want to act like we’re together for the time being, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

Wells listens to my proposal with intrigue, one corner of his mouth curling in amusement. He pauses for a moment and then shifts his stance before setting his elbow on the table, “Won’t let me buy you a drink, but we’re already dating?”

I nod and tip my shoulder in a half shrug, “Pretty much.”

Wells glances off into space for a few moments with a thoughtful smile, “I’m crushed, I really am,” his eyes wander back to me, giving me a once-over, “but I guess I can help you out.” He gives a nod, “I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

“Thanks,” I breathe a small sigh of relief.

“No offense, but from how your friend was talking,” Wells nods to Anna, “It sounded like she was attracting unwanted attention, not you.”

“Normally, I’d say yes, but this is a new thing and I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“How about your boyfriend? What’s he think about it?”

There’s no way I’m even going to try to explain to Wells who I think might be following me or what Bowen thinks about it. Instead, I just scrunch up my nose with an evasive smile, “It’s kind of a long story.”

Wells drops his head with a laugh, “Alright,” he nods, “fair enough.”

“I know you didn’t come here to stand next to me for no reason, so I get it if you’d rather not. I don’t want to ruin your night.”

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