Chapter 28
Aria
No matter how many times I tell my eyes not to look at Elliot and his date, they always seem to move in that direction. I can’t seem to look away, and I hate it. I can’t even enjoy my dinner, and I love filet minion with sweet potato.
As I try to eat my dinner and not look at him, I catch the few times he looks around the room, no doubt trying to see if he can find me.
I bring a piece of sweet potato up to my month, and the moment my lips wrap around the fork, my eyes move up and meet a set of gorgeous blue eyes across the room.
My eyes quickly move away, and my fork clatters on the plate. He found me, and I can’t disappear fast enough.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asks, looking over at me with concern in his expression.
I feel tears of anger stinging my eyes, but I quickly try to push them away and answer Ethan.
“Yeah, my hand just twitched.” It’s a stupid excuse, but hopefully, it’s a believable one.
By the way his eyebrows furrow, I know it isn’t. “Are you sure? Because you were staring a little hard over at the Lane table.”
“I was not staring,” I throw out, trying to defend myself, but he gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me.
“Whatever you say.”
There’s no point in deflecting. I’ve already been caught; there’s no point in saying otherwise.
I let out a sigh and ask the one question I hope he knows the answer to. They were friends at one point after all. “You don’t know Elliot’s date, do you?”
I hate that my voice is small. I hate that this man has gotten so deep under my skin that I care so much about who he brings to an event. I hate that I care so much.
“His date?” Ethan asks, sounding confused.
I nod. “The woman in the strapless black dress and beach waves down her back.”
I only caught a glimpse of her when they first walked in, but even from a distance, I know she is beautiful.
Ethan shakes his head at me. “That’s not Elliot’s date.”
“Um, excuse me, but they arrived together, and I saw him place a hand on her back as he guided her to the table.”
My dinner companion gives me question-filled look. “Are you and Elliot a thing?”
I snort. “No.”
“Are you sure? Because you noticed a lot about their interaction in a small period of time.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
My eyes narrow. “Don’t make me ask Logan to punch you, Bettencourt. Now, tell me who she is.”
“Her name is Sammie, or Samantha, if you want to be formal. She’s his sister.”
My back goes rigid.
Sister.
The woman he’s with is his sister.
Crap.
I think I fucked up.