Page 49 of The Friend Situation

He made eye contact, flashed his charming smile, and devoted his full attention, but the spark—that effortless flirting I’m so accustomed to seeing during his interviews—was absent. Like he’s broken.

A few minutes drift by, and I refresh the browser I had open earlier.

A new article grabs the headlines.

Naomi and Weston: Power couple potential.

Naomi had to leave their dinner early due to business. It’s rumored they’ve already planned their second date.

The internet loves to ship Weston into relationships. Each time a new woman is mentioned, Lena gives them more content to run with. They bait her, and she goes public with her opinions, throwing as much shade as possible while trying to stay relevant. She doesn’t realize she’s an entire circus with the entertainment she provides. It makes me feel sorry for Weston.

When I look up from my phone, I spothim.

Dark hair falls above his bright blue eyes that seem to pierce through my facade. He adjusts his suit jacket like he walked right off a Dior runway. While he’s polite and charming in public, he reveals a softer side in private, a side he only shows me.

His gaze catches mine, and it sends a wave of warmth through my chest. He runs his fingers through his messy hair, adding a touch of effortless charm that I find irresistible. A genuine smile spreads across his face, and I can’t help but mirror it.

He’salwayshappy to see me.

“Hi.” He moves closer, gently hooking his pinkie with mine and pulling me with him. The single touch causes electricity to race through me as he guides me inside the elevator.

As the doors slide shut behind us, Weston releases my hand, pressing his thumb against the reader. In an instant, we shoot upward toward his penthouse.

“I’ve never been to your place before,” I admit, my pulse quickening with excitement when I study his kissable lips.

“You’re always welcome to visit,” he replies, his voice smooth.

Weston easily disarms me with a single glance.

“Really? Do I get a key?” I laugh, glancing away to collect myself.

I struggle to keep my composure when he looks at me intensely. It’s easy to imagine we’re the only two people in the universe.

“Consider it done,” he says.

“I was only kidding,” I tell him.

“I’m not.” He smirks. “Your wish is my command.”

“Are you my genie in a bottle?”

“No, babe, because I’ll give youmorethan three wishes.”

“Why don’t you bring this side of you on your dates? This is what women want,” I say.

“You don’t think I know what women want?” He blinks at me, being cocky as fuck.

Oh, he knows. God, of course he does.

I can’t look at him; the urge to capture his mouth takes over.

Thankfully, the elevator doors slide open, and Weston guides me out.

“Thank you for tonight. You’ve spoiled me,” I say as we move into the foyer that mirrors the Diamond in the Sky.

“There’s so much more to come.” He shoots me a wink.

This entrance has a unique charm that feels distinctly like Weston’s style. Very modern with moody lighting.

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