Page 98 of Sliding into Love
"He does?" I hate how hopeful I sound.
"He does. And if he's smart like I suspect he is, he'll be here tonight. Now come with me. There's a potential donor I want you to meet. She's interested in your work with the Foundation and has deep pockets."
I let him guide me into the crowd, falling into the familiar rhythm of networking. Smile, shake hands, talk about the hospital wing, about the children it'll help, about the importance of accessible healthcare. It's automatic at this point, a well-practiced performance.
But part of my mind is still on Kenneth. Still wondering if he'll show up. Still trying not to hope too much.
An hour passes. Then another. The ballroom fills with guests, the dinner service begins, and I find myself seated at the family table with Bellamy and Finn, my parents, and a few empty chairs designated for guests still mingling or who are running late.
One of those empty chairs was meant for Kenneth.
"He'll show," Bellamy murmurs, leaning close so only I can hear.
"You don't know that."
"I do, actually. I talked to him this morning. He said he was coming."
I whip my head toward my brother. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because watching you stress about it has been mildly entertaining." He grins at my glare. "Also because I figured he might want to surprise you. Don't ruin it by being all in your head about whether he'll show up. He's coming, Royce. Trust me."
I want to. God, I want to. But the empty chair beside me feels like a physical ache.
And aren’t my brother’s words a mirror to my own recent pleas? When I asked Kenneth to trust me, he had. Now I have to do the same.
Dinner is served once everyone is seated. I push food around my plate without really tasting it. Finn tries to engage me in conversation about the team, and I do my best to focus, to be present.
But I keep glancing toward the entrance.
Dessert arrives with flare, the servers revealing the delicate chocolate creations one by one. I'm just starting to accept that Kenneth isn't coming by this point. That maybe he wasn't ready for this step.
"Sorry I'm late."
I freeze, my fork halfway to my mouth. That voice. I know that voice.
I turn, and there he is.
Kenneth stands beside our table, looking absolutely devastating in a blue suit that fits him perfectly. His hair is styled, his face clean-shaven, and he's looking at me with an expression that's equal parts nervous and hopeful.
"Kenny.” His name comes out as barely a whisper.
"Your Majesty." He gives me a small smile. “I’m glad you saved me a seat."
I'm on my feet before I consciously decide to move, closing the small distance between us. For a moment we just look at each other, and I see my own relief reflected in his eyes.
Then I pull him into a hug, tight and desperate, and he wraps his arms around me like he never wants to let go.
"You came," I breathe against his shoulder.
"Of course I came. You invited me." His hand rubs soothing circles on my back. My exposed back since I decided to really flaunt my stuff tonight. "I'm sorry I didn't respond sooner. Things have been chaotic, and I wanted to make sure I could actually be here before I promised anything."
"You could have told me that."
"I know. I'm sorry." He pulls back enough to look at me, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes. "I didn't mean to worry you. That's the last thing I wanted."
Around us, I'm vaguely aware of people watching. My family, other guests at nearby tables, all probably taking note of this reunion. But I can't bring myself to care.
"Come on," I say, taking his hand. "Sit. You missed dinner but there's dessert."
