Page 10 of Love, Take Two

Through the wall, I can hear Emory's phone call end, followed by the sounds of him moving around his suite. Getting ready for bed, probably.

"... and that's when Jared realized he was more attracted to Erika's Instagram posts than he ever was to any actual human being he'd dated," Derek is saying, apparently wrapping up some story I stopped listening to twenty minutes ago.

"That's... great, Derek," I say, stifling a yawn. "But I really should get some sleep. Tomorrow's starting early."

"Of course, of course," Derek says, finally taking the hint and standing up.

"Good night, Derek," I say firmly, closing the door before he can elaborate on his romantic predictions.

I lean back against the door again, processing Derek's oversharing and his observations about tonight's interactions. Was it that obvious that seeing Emory affected me? Did we really spend the evening looking at each other in ways that suggested more than friendly surprise?

The problem is, Derek might not be wrong. There was something about seeing Emory again that felt like more than nostalgia. Something about the way he stepped in to deflect Derek's inappropriate comments, the way his presence felt both familiar and electric, the way my heart races hours later.

But I'm here for Jared's wedding and to make professional connections that could benefit my business. I'm not here to get distracted by my college boyfriend or to create drama at someone else's celebration.

I need to talk to Emory about how we're going to handle this week. We need ground rules, clear boundaries, and a strategy for dealing with Derek's oversharing without letting it turn us into a spectacle.

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the French doors that lead to our shared terrace. Through the glass, I can see that the lights are still on in his suite. Now or never.

I knock softly on the connecting door, and after a moment, I hear footsteps approaching.

"Vada?" Emory's voice comes through the glass.

"We need to talk," I say. "About this week and how we're going to handle... everything."

The door opens to reveal Emory in shorts and a t-shirt, his hair even more tousled than usual. Looks like he’s been running his hands through it, which is something he used to do when he was processing complicated situations.

"Yeah," he says, stepping aside so I can enter his suite. "We need to talk."

5

EMORY

Having Vada King standing in my doorway in pajamas feels like a very specific kind of torture I wasn't prepared for tonight.

She's wearing soft cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt that slides off one shoulder, her auburn hair loose and messy. It's casual and comfortable and achingly familiar in a way that makes my chest tight with memories of lazy Sunday mornings senior year when we'd spend hours talking in bed about everything and nothing.

"Come in," I say, stepping aside and trying to act like having my college girlfriend in my hotel suite at ten PM is a completely normal situation. "Can I get you something to drink? The minibar is probably stocked with overpriced everything."

"Water would be great," she says, looking around my suite with the same appreciation I had earlier. "The view is incredible.”

I grab two bottles of water from the minibar. Having her here makes my suite feel smaller. I catch myself noticing things I've tried not to think about—how she moves with familiar grace, how her voice carries the same warmth that used to make mewant to tell her everything, the fact that she's here, in my space, and we're about to have a conversation about boundaries I'm not sure I want.

"So," I say, settling into the chair across from the sofa where she's made herself comfortable, "quite an evening."

"For real," she agrees, twisting the cap off her water bottle. "Though I have to say, Derek exceeded even my lowest expectations for tactless oversharing."

"The guy is like a walking violation of social boundaries," I say, grateful to focus on Derek instead of the way the soft lighting makes Vada's skin look golden. "And we've got six more days of him announcing everyone's personal business to complete strangers."

"He came to my room after the party," Vada says with a grimace. "Brought wine and wanted to 'catch up properly' which apparently meant analyzing our college relationship in excruciating detail."

"I heard." I lean forward, immediately annoyed on her behalf. "What all did he say?"

"Oh, just that you and I had more chemistry than Jared and I ever did, and that tonight proved we're still attracted to each other, and that this week is going to be like a romantic comedy waiting to happen." She takes a sip of water. "Typical Derek observations delivered with all the subtlety of a brick through a window."

I feel heat rise in my cheeks because this guy’s observations hit uncomfortably close to whatever I'm trying not to acknowledge about seeing Vada again. "He is seeing drama where there isn't any."

"Exactly," Vada says, though something in her tone suggests she's trying to convince herself as much as me. "Which is why we need to figure out how to handle this week without giving him more material to work with."

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