Page 151 of Scattered Glitter

“Oh, shut up.” Levi huffs, though I notice the slight flush creeping up his cheeks. “That’s not true.”

My eyebrows shoot up. They really don’t know?

Oh my God.

“Levi, it’s clear as day. He’s as much into you as you’re into him.”

Levi looks at me, challenge burning in his eyes. “Who says I’m into him?”

I give him a pointed look, not even bothering to answer, simply raising an eyebrow.

“Fine, okay.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s a vulnerability there now, his bravado cracking. “Yes. I’m in love with him. For an embarrassingly long time, actually.” He takes a breath. “He was there for me after everything with Nicholas and… I don’t know. I don’t have any luck with guys. When I told him eight years ago, he said the only way he could ever feel about me was like a little brother. So whatever you think you’re seeing, it’s your imagination. Or maybe it’s my wishful thinking. But it’s never going to happen.”

Oh, Ezra, you fucking idiot.

I snort, shaking my head. “Men are trash,” I say, givingLevi the standard response I always give Annabelle whenever we talk about guys.

Levi’s laugh is soft and genuine. He’s visibly glad about the change of topic. “Right. Dudes be named Max but doing the bare minimum.”

I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder. “Exactly. Maximum disappointment.”

He shakes his head, a smile still lingering, but there’s also a hint of sadness there. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m right,” I reply softly. “You deserve someone who sees you for everything you are. And trust me, Ezra would be a fool if he doesn’t.”

Levi looks at me briefly, nodding, his gaze drifting to the man in question. “Maybe,” he says quietly. “Maybe one day.”

I hope he’s right for his sake and Ezra’s.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Nicholas

This is ridiculous, even for me.

I rub a hand over my face, adjusting my sunglasses as if they’re somehow going to hide the fact that I’ve been parked here like a total creep for what, an hour?

With my shades on, hiding in plain sight in my Porsche down the street from Fitness First like some lovesick fool, I already went inside once and strolled through the gym, pretending to scope out the equipment while searching for her. It was pointless. She wasn’t there. But instead of leaving, I circled back, waiting in my car.

For what, exactly? A glimpse of her? A chance to strike up a conversation that doesn’t make me sound like an idiot?

Pathetic.

Part of me knows I should go back to the hotel, back to the monotony of my life. But something stops me from leaving this parking lot.

The memory ofherkeeps me here.

It’s not just the way she looked, although, God, she’s beautiful. It’s the way she didn’t try to butter me up or play me. She didn’t look at me like everyone else with thatcalculated glint in their eyes, already weighing how much of me they can take before I notice. Instead, she looked at me like I was just…me. Not Nicholas Harrington. Not the heir to the Harrington empire. Just Nico.

I’ve never craved anything more.

She left an impression, and I’ve been chasingthat feeling ever since.

People think they know who I am before they even speak to me, or at least they assume what I’m supposed to be—theNicholas Harrington, the good son, perfectly groomed to uphold the family legacy.

I think I just puked a little in my mouth.

My mother doesn’t just want me involved in the business, the lifestyle—she demands it. She never cared that business school wasn’t my thing. I couldn’t keep up and didn’t want to. But she pulled her strings to make sure I passed, covering for my ineptitude. And the worst part? She knows I’m no business prodigy, no shark in the making. She knows and reminds me every chance she gets.

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