Page 13 of Until Then

It’s not that Eden is horrible. She’s . . . fine.

We started chatting online at a wrap party for last season’s show.

I’d written off dating for a time, but she sounded—dare I say—down to earth. Sort of like someone else.

Date one, we spent half the time taking posed selfies at dinner, then ended up at her place with a posed make out that she wanted to take further but, truth be told, I was eighty-three percent certain even that would be posed and documented.

Pass.

Still, here we are a few months later, nearing the end. I can handle selfies, I can handle shallow conversation, but I don’t handle back-stabbing.

Problem is, Eden isn’t clued into the purpose of tonight’s dinner.

Slowly, she covers my hand with hers. “It’s going to make us public. Images of us at the wedding will surface, and I can’t wait.”

I scoff and take a swig of my own water. “I don’t think you’d say that if you knew me.”

“What?” Her perfect brow arches. “What does that mean?”

I wave the thought away.

She shrugs and shifts in her seat. “This place is so small. The bathrooms were like a closet. I thought you said it was popular.”

“It is.” I tip back water, intentionally letting a cube of ice slip over my tongue, all so I can crunch it loudly. This place has been a favorite since I moved out here. It was the first place my twin brother and I went, back when no one knew our faces. “With me. It’s a favorite of the band whenever they come visit.”

Eden’s plump, pink lips part. “You bring Perfectly Broken here?”

“All the time.” I chuckle. “Reminds me of some places back home.” I hold up a piece of fried okra. “My sister-in-law has a tradition of making me eat one of these for every scene she and the other band wives are forced to see me naked in the show. Makes for some awkward talks, and I think it’s Vi’s payback.”

Eden looks a little horrified.

I simply laugh and pop a shoulder with a shrug. “They all still look me in the eye, so I must not be too hideous.”

“Noah,” Eden says with a touch of annoyance. “It’s not that. Do you even look at my content? I have entire lists of appropriate dining for a group like that.”

“Groups like what, Eden?”

“People who are accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Like you and me. Your brother, I’m sure, lives a certain way with his band.”

A small, resigned smile cuts across my mouth. More proof this woman doesn’t know me at all. In truth, I’m not sure she ever really tried.

Then again, maybe I didn’t either. Maybe it was merely a new comfort zone I forced to happen.

Eden folds her arms over her chest. “Will I finally meet them all at the wedding?”

“Nope.” I don’t hesitate.

“I thought they were friends with Briar.”

“They are.” In fact, my brother and his wife will be at Briar’s close-friends-and-family dinner tonight before the wedding really kicks off next week.

Eden wants to meet every single one of my famous connections and the disappointment is clearly written on her face.

I need to do this now.

While she studies the wine list, I study her. Conventionally stunning, smooth olive skin, silky hair, full lips, deep blue eyes.

What would she think if I started spewing out facts about history because I spend weekends watching documentaries, or rarely spent money on anything but my nephew?

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