Page 63 of I Think They Love You

“Don’t worry, nephew,” Cheryl cuts in. “In case your…boyfrienddecides to ditch you for another country again, we have a plan.” She gestures toward the other end of the bar where a man chats with the bartender.

He’s handsome: fair sepia complexion, a perfectly styled pompadour. Any other night, Denz would be locked in an unoccupied office, learning what’s under that jade suit, but he’s not interested. Frankly, he’s scared to questionwhy.

“His name’s Javier,” Cheryl tells him. “Javi for short.”

Kami says, “Doesn’t he work for Elite Events?”

“Keep your enemies closer, Kamila,” Eva replies.

“Sorry,” Denz says, incredulous. “Did you invite a man who works at ourcompetitoras my backup date?”

“We’re looking out for you!” Cheryl’s sympathetic eyes say,because things didn’t work last time.

Denz doesn’t need the reminder. Or a plan B. “I’m good. My relationship’s good,” he says firmly. “Braylon’s just—”

Very, un-fucking-believably late.

“I’m here!”

A body nestles into Denz’s side. He wills himself not to gasp at Braylon’s freshly shaven face. His strong jaw under the ballroom’s lighting. How his shoulders look in the Boss tuxedoDenz suggested he wear. Those apologetic eyes staring back at him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” His fingers squeeze Denz’s hip.

“You too,” Denz whispers.

“Sorry I’m late,” Braylon says, smiling dreamily. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Sure?”

He doesn’t mean to answer with a question of his own. It’s just that—Jesus. The sincerity in Braylon’s voice is next-level acting.

Jamie could never.

A pair of throats clear noisily.

On cue, Braylon turns, hand extended. “Apologies. Aunt Cheryl and Eva, correct?” He smiles at Kenneth next. “Lovely to see you again, Mr. Carter.”

“Youfinallymade it,” Kenneth says.

“Traffic was an absolute nightmare,” Braylon explains while kissing Kami’s cheek, half hugging her. “Beautiful as ever, Kami. I’ve missed you and Nic. Is she here?”

“It’s aschoolnight,” Kenneth grunts.

Kami says, beaming, “She’s dying to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see her.”

“So.” Eva sizes up Braylon. “You’re Denz’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend the sequel,” Cheryl corrects over the thrum of a Whitney Houston cover of “Higher Love.”

Denz sighs.Here we fucking go. But Braylon’s warm, unbothered laugh sings above Denz’s grim thoughts.

“Yes. I suppose it is a part two.”

“There won’t be a trilogy,” Eva bites.

“I should hope not,” Braylon says earnestly. “We’re quite serious about each other.”

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