Page 200 of Ewan

Despite knowing each other for only a short time and mostly having fun––intently having fun––the last few days have been more than sex.

I just started to feel the flames of emotions licking at my soul, and he seemed different, more thoughtful and tender than ever, and now this?

No matter the rationale behind omitting to tell me he had a son, the reality of it makes me crumble inside.

I’m mad at him.

And I’m mad at me.

And now what?

Are we going to deny in front of his kid that we have been seeing each other?

That ship has sailed.

The young man rounding the table with a smile on his face gets a kick out of this.

He’s the most cheerful around the table when he takes a seat and piles up food on his plate.

“Aren’t you two eating?” he asks, grabbing a fork.

I toss a glance at Ewan.

“Yes. Of course, we’re eating. Scarlett?”

He holds the chair for me, and I have no other choice than to graciously slide into my seat. Ezra looks at us like he’s taking notes in his head.

He loves to be here and see us embarrassed and with grievances that need to be aired.

For the first few minutes, the atmosphere is intense, and not talking doesn’t help.

Eventually, Ezra speaks again.

“Listen… I had no idea my father had a guest,” he says, and I press a napkin against my lips, waiting for him to continue.

Ezra locks my eyes.

“My father talked about you,” he says, his irresistible charm inherited from his father. “And Colley talked my ear off about you, too. He convinced me to play Santa, but I couldn’t, and here we are. Things do happen for a reason. Talking about an awkward family dinner,” he muses, focusing on his food again. “My cousin has a crush on you. As it turns out, my father has a crush on you, too. You’re his best kept secret.”

“Not anymore,” Ewan retorts.

“Right. Well, I’m happy that we’re here. Sooner or later, this would have happened anyway. It’s better to clear things out before we face the rest of the family.”

He shifts his eyes to his father.

“Does Elisa know you’re seeing Miss Beauchamp?”

“Scarlett,” I correct him.

“No one knows anything,” Ewan mutters, looking at me.

Setting my elbows on the table and clasping my fingers under my chin I wait for him to continue.

“Scarlett and I…” he says, moving his eyes to his plate and collecting a piece of food before putting it in his mouth, “have struck a friendship.”

“Uh-huh,” Ezra says around his food, a knowing smile tilting his lips.

A few moments of silence hover over the table before I toss the napkin on the table.

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