No One Else (The Ladies Who Brunch 2)

He sighs, staring across the room. “I’m torn. She’s my sister, Ethan, and she’s been a mess for weeks. But you’re my friend, and man-to-man, I know it’s not easy to admit when we’re wrong, when we’ve fucked up royally. My gut is telling me to protect my sister, but on the flip side, I know that being with you will make her happy too. So…”

“So…”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see you here and let you do what you came here to do. But if I hear another word about you fucking with her mind, our next conversation won’t be so pleasant.”

I release the breath I was holding. “I promise, man. I’m going to do everything to get her back.”

“Good luck. She’s fucking stubborn and really fucking hurt right now.”

“I know, but I can’t fix things if I don’t try.”

“Then try…really fucking hard.” He pats me on the shoulder and walks off just in time for Amelia’s name to be called over the sound system.

Blowing out the oxygen I was holding in, I focus back on my mission and move around the room again.

A round of applause and cheering rings out from the front, where I see Penelope, Noelle, Charlotte, Damien, Jeffrey, Nick, and Amelia’s parents clapping and whistling for her. And Brayden—fucking Brayden—smiling from ear to ear in a way that makes me feel all murdery inside.

Because I should be there, cheering her on as well. And I can’t, through no one’s fault but my own.

Instead, I move as quickly as I can around the perimeter of the room to a spot on the side of the stage where Amelia will descend the stairs in a few moments.

After what feels like an eternity, the nominees are asked to exit the stage, and as Amelia holds the railing while taking slow steps down, I take a few steps toward her.

“Congratulations, beautiful.”

She gasps, freezing at the bottom of the stairs, holding her plaque in one hand while the other rests over her rapidly beating heart. At least, I’m assuming hers is beating just as fast as mine is at this moment.

“Ethan? What are you doing here? Your name wasn’t on the list.”

“I have my ways.”

People coming off the stage behind her clear their throats, alerting her that she’s blocking the path, one of which is Brayden. I notice the plaque in his hand as well, which means he was also a nominee tonight.

“Is everything okay, Amelia?” he asks, stepping around her as we move out of the way.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

She looks over her shoulder at him, furrowing her brow. “No. You can go back to your seat.”

“Are you sure?”

“She said no, dipshit,” I mutter under my breath, but he hears it.

With a glare, he takes off toward their table as I grab Amelia’s hand and pull her to the side, out of sight of the rest of the venue and in a small hallway where we can talk.

“Why are you here, Ethan?” she asks me again once we’re alone.

“I showed up for you. I wanted to be here to support you.”

“Why?” She takes her hand back and holds her plaque to her chest.

“Because showing up for the people you love is something you should always do.”

She closes her eyes. “Ethan…”

I press a finger to her lips as her eyes pop back open. “Don’t say anything else. I just wanted you to know that I was here, that I clapped for you, cheered you on, and supported you in your career, despite how I felt at first. That your success means just as much if not more to me than my own. That I want to be here cheering you on every day for the rest of our lives, Amelia.”

Her eyes move back and forth between mine for a few seconds before she finally says, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I close the distance between us and press a kiss to her forehead. “And remember what I said. If I have to see Brayden put his hands on you, I’ll chop them off myself.”

With a few steps back, I take in her face—eyes bugged out, flushed cheeks, and a little ‘o’ formed by her lips.

“See you Monday, Amelia. Have a good night.”

And then I leave, not bothering to look back because I’ve done what I set out to do tonight. And now, it’s about coming up with my next move.