Chapter 25
Nia
After nearly an hour of making my way through the ballroom, hugging family members, greeting friends, and making sure Mars never needed more than a glance in my direction, everyone was finally invited to take their seats for dinner.
The event staff quietly opened the grand ballroom doors as the string quartet transitioned into a soft rendition of Ribbon in the Sky.
Guests slowly drifted toward their assigned tables, stopping every few feet to hug another relative or introduce themselves to someone new.
I smiled as I watched it all unfold.
Mars had somehow managed to create a room filled with people from completely different walks of life, yet everyone fit together effortlessly.
Professional athletes laughed with business executives.
Old college friends shared stories with grandparents.
Children darted between tables before their parents quickly pulled them back into line.
The entire room felt alive.
I followed the table numbers until I located the head bridal party section.
My eyes scanned the place cards until I found my name:
Nia Kingsley.
I smiled, but then I froze.
Resting directly on the setting beside mine was another thick ivory place card:
Caleb Sinclair.
I slowly lifted my eyes.
Across the ballroom, Mars stood talking animatedly with one of Jalen's cousins.
Almost as if she could feel me looking, she glanced over.
Our eyes met.
She smiled, and then… she winked.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
That little setup artist.
Shaking my head, I stepped closer to the table.
The floral arrangements looked even more beautiful beneath the candlelight than they had during pictures.
Hundreds of floating candles reflected against crystal glassware, making the entire table shimmer beneath the warm lighting.
The rich scent of fresh flowers blended perfectly with vanilla candles and cedar accents floating gently through the ballroom.
It immediately put me at ease.
I quietly reminded myself to breathe.
Yes… I was currently battling feelings for Caleb Sinclair while dating an incredibly handsome, successful, thoughtful stockbroker.
Life was complicated.
But I was Nia Kingsley.
I didn't fluster easily.
I had spent years navigating locker rooms full of professional athletes, million-dollar negotiations, impossible personalities, and career-defining moments under pressure.
One dinner wasn't about to break me.
Tonight wasn't about my feelings; tonight was about Mars.
I smiled to myself, determined to enjoy this evening with the people I loved most.
As I reached my chair, I instinctively reached for the back of it.
Before I could pull it out, another hand beat me to it.
Cal quietly stepped forward.
Without saying a word, he pulled my chair back for me.
I looked up at him, and he simply smiled.
"Thank you," I said softly.
"My pleasure."
His voice came out effortlessly low.
I carefully sat down, and he gently pushed my chair forward before taking the seat beside me.
The gesture caught me completely off guard.
In all the years we'd known each other… he had never done that.
Then again, we had never attended something like this together before.
Most of our memories involved basketball courts, sports bars, late-night diners, and whatever random place Mars dragged us to.
This felt different.
Almost… intentional.
Before I had time to think much more about it, the lights dimmed slightly as Mars and Jalen made their way toward the sweetheart table.
The room slowly settled into silence, and Jalen picked up the microphone first.
"I just want to thank every single one of you for being here today to celebrate Mars and me," he smiled, looking over toward her before addressing the crowd.
"Especially on Thanksgiving.
There really isn't another group of people we'd rather spend today with than all of you."
The room erupted into applause.
Mars leaned toward the microphone next.
"And I'm even more grateful that I finally get to eat."
The ballroom immediately exploded with laughter.
Jalen shook his head, wrapping an arm around Mars's shoulders.
"If you know Mars, then you already know the food was just as important as me showing up today."
Mars shrugged unapologetically as another wave of laughter rippled through the guests.
"With that being said," Jalen finished, "let's give thanks, let's eat, and after that… we're going to celebrate."
Cheers erupted throughout the ballroom.
Almost immediately, the service staff appeared from every entrance carrying silver serving platters beneath polished domed lids.
The aroma reached us before the food did—warm butter, fresh rosemary, garlic, brown sugar, cinnamon, and roasted herbs.
Everything smelled unbelievable.
Waiters moved gracefully around the room, placing dish after dish along the center of every table family-style.
Golden herb-roasted turkey rested beside honey-glazed smoked ham.
Slow-braised short ribs practically fell apart beneath their rich red wine reduction.
Lobster macaroni and cheese bubbled beneath a perfectly browned parmesan crust.
Garlic whipped potatoes sat beside roasted fingerling potatoes tossed with rosemary and thyme.
Candied yams shimmered beneath toasted marshmallows and a pecan crumble, flanked by cornbread dressing and cranberry chutney.
Whatever holiday food you could think of, it was there.
People reached across the table, passing heavy plates and pouring wine as laughter bounced off the walls.
It felt like home.
I had barely finished placing a spoonful of baked macaroni onto my plate when Cal leaned slightly into my space, his warmth instantly drawing my attention away from the food.
"Did I mention how amazing you look tonight?" he murmured.
"I'm pretty sure you mentioned it," I said, a slight laugh escaping my lips as a flush crept up my neck.
"Just checking," he said, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his face.
I shook my head, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest, and went right back to filling my plate.
"So..." Cal said as he reached for his wine glass.
"J5 has been kicking butt lately."
A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
"He really has."
"I knew he'd have a solid start to the season, but I didn't expect him to dominate this quickly."
I nodded.
"Neither did I.
He finally looks comfortable out there."
"He does.
That second-quarter run against Phoenix was unbelievable."
I laughed.
"I had a feeling you were going to bring that game up."
"How could I not?
He completely took over."
"He scored sixteen straight points in what... five minutes?"
"Four minutes and forty-three seconds," I corrected.
Cal laughed.
"You timed it?"
"I was literally sitting on the bench," I pointed out.
"Fair enough."
"And he wasn't just scoring, either," I added.
"No, he was reading the floor so much better."
"Exactly," I said, leaning in.
"At the beginning of the season, everything felt rushed for him.
He kept trying to prove he belonged instead of simply playing basketball."
"And now he trusts the game," Cal finished my sentence, his eyes locking onto mine.
"He isn't forcing contested shots anymore, and he's making the extra pass instead of trying to be the hero every possession."
I nodded, feeling a familiar spark in my chest.
"That's been the biggest difference.
Once he stopped trying to silence the critics and started trusting himself, everything changed."
Cal pointed his fork toward me, a knowing smirk on his face.
"See?
That's why I love talking sports with you."
"Because you like to debate?" I laughed, a rich, warm sound that rattled my own composure.
"No.
Because you actually know what you're talking about."
I smiled, ducking my head to take another bite of my dinner.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was."
The conversation flowed effortlessly from J5 into Houston's second unit, then drifted into rookie development, coaching adjustments, and which teams looked like legitimate championship contenders.
Neither of us realized how much time had passed because the rhythm never faltered.
One topic naturally bled into the next, just like it always had.
Somewhere between a fierce debate over defensive rotations and laughing out loud at one of Cal's ridiculous hot takes, a sharp ache of realization hit me hard.
I could sit on rooftops and eat four-course celebrity meals forever, but no one on earth spoke my language quite like Caleb Sinclair.
I hadn’t missed basketball—the sport had never left my life.
I had missed him.
I missed talking to someone who saw the game through the exact same lens.
I missed the sharp, playful banter.
I missed the way we could finish each other’s thoughts before either of us even realized we were doing it.
David and I had wonderful, mature conversations.
I genuinely loved spending time with him.
We discussed work, travel destinations, business logistics, family dynamics, and our long-term goals.
Those talks were thoughtful, intentional, and comfortable.
But this?
This was visceral.
This felt like breathing.
I hated myself the second the comparison crossed my mind.
David hadn’t done a single thing wrong.
He was kind, attentive, patient—everything a woman was supposed to want in a partner.
Yet, sitting here beside Cal felt so utterly effortless it terrified me.
Dinner eventually gave way to celebration.
As the waitstaff quietly cleared the last of the plates, the band transitioned into something with a heavier beat, and the ballroom transformed almost instantly.
The amber lights dimmed, colorful uplighting washed across the walls, and the glossy black dance floor reflected every burst of light spinning from the ceiling.
The DJ seamlessly took over from the quartet, sending a deep bass rolling through the room.
Suddenly, the open bar was three people deep.
Champagne bottles popped near the back, and laughter echoed from every corner.
Jalen's teammates abandoned any attempt at looking polished the moment the first throwback tracks dropped.
Cousins pulled aunts onto the floor, uncles challenged one another to dance-offs they were far too old to be attempting, and even Mars's parents were laughing in the middle of the chaos.
Servers wove through the crowd carrying espresso martinis, old fashioneds, and trays of miniature desserts that disappeared as quickly as they arrived.
The formal engagement dinner was gone.
Now, it felt like a real party.
I found myself in the center of the floor with Stormy, Mars, and Becky as Nelly's "Hot in Herre" blasted through the speakers.
We laughed until our stomachs hurt, shouting lyrics we knew by heart while Andre became the centerpiece of an impromptu dance circle.
Mars threw both hands in the air just as Jalen appeared out of nowhere.
"There you are," he laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"You've officially been stolen."
She looked back at us dramatically.
"Save me if he starts trying to two-step!"
We burst into laughter as Jalen whisked her into the crowd.
But before I could even process the shift, someone stepped in behind me.
I didn't have to turn around.
I knew.
Cal slid in, pressing flush against my back.
Every lingering trace of the day’s stress evaporated, instantly replaced by the raw, magnetic pull of his heat.
I tilted my head, letting my shoulders drop as I instinctively began to sway against him.
The familiar, musky scent of his cologne filled my senses, waking up every dormant nerve ending in my body.
His large hands found my waist, anchoring me as my hips fell into a seamless rhythm with his.
I was moving without thought, entirely overtaken by a gravity I couldn't resist.
When the unmistakable strength of his presence pressed harder against the small of my back, a breathless gasp escaped my lips.
Cal didn't give me a second to think.
With a firm grip on my hips, he spun me around to face him.
We locked eyes.
The silence between us was charged with the exact kind of heavy tension they write about in novels.
The faint, sharp scent of tequila lingered on his warm breath, mixing with the electric atmosphere of the room.
He leaned in, dipping his head until his lips barely grazed my earlobe.
A shiver ripped down my spine, settling deep in my chest.
"Nobody makes me feel the way you do," he growled, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always unspooled my control.
My breath hitched; my heart hammered against my ribs.
Staying away from him was never going to be as easy as I’d convinced myself it would be.
It was almost as if the DJ knew I was drowning in trouble, getting entirely too intimate with Cal on a crowded dance floor while David was back in Connecticut, probably gathered with his wealthy family in some pristine parlor.
The music shifted.
The bass dropped away, and an old Mariah Carey ballad filled the room.
Around us, the high-energy crowd began to wind down, melting into a slow, swaying mass.
Panic flared in my chest.
I tried to pull out of Cal's orbit, but he wouldn't let me slip away.
His hand slid down, anchoring firmly at the small of my back to pull me right back against him, forcing me into the slow rhythm of the music.
Almost instinctively, my resistance shattered.
I melted into him with a quiet ease as his head lowered into the curve of my neck.
We didn't speak.
We didn't need to.
In that breathless, suspended moment, the truth finally broke through my defenses:
Cal had my heart.
I was completely, irreversibly in love with Caleb Sinclair.
Every single wall I’d built to hide it came entirely undone.
I didn't dare say it out loud, but just admitting it to myself brought a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief.
His heart hammered a steady, heavy rhythm against my chest as we moved in perfect sync.
I tilted my head back to look up at him.
His eyes darkened, and just as his lips parted to say something that would probably change everything, Mars’s voice suddenly boomed over the microphone.
"I can't begin to tell y'all how much I really enjoyed you guys tonight!
Before we close out the evening, I want to give all of you a parting gift for coming today.
And please, make sure you take as much food home as you want!
I better see you guys completely turn up like this for the wedding!"
Laughter and cheers rippled through the room.
I managed a tight smile, looking over at my best friend.
The girl who used to be a certified homebody was now a thriving bride-to-be, and seeing her this happy made my chest ache with a bittersweet warmth.
Using the sudden burst of noise as an excuse, I slipped out of Cal’s embrace.
The instant the physical contact broke, a sharp, bitter wave of coldness washed over me, striking me down with the sudden lack of his presence.
The music chimed back in at a lower volume—a universal signal that the festivities were finally drawing to a close, dragging me right back to a reality I wasn't ready to face.