Page 84 of Sweet Dreams

Emery: BRO!

Olly: Not bad advice. You’re a good guy. Honestly, you don’t have much to lose. It’s obvious you both are into each other.

Gideon: Fine.

Gideon: And guys… thanks.

Emery: Anytime man. We got you!

A warm feeling settles in my chest. They’re right. I want to prove to Avery that I’m worth it.

Out of all the jobs I took throughout the years, I never expected a famous rock band to be some of my closest friends. People I consider to be family.

Chapter seven

Avery

The aroma of applewood, grilled burgers, and smoky barbecue sauce fills Ezra and Olly’s backyard. The evening air is dry and hot, typical for a midsummer night here in Foggy. String lights hang on the wooden awning overhead, casting a soft, golden glow over the long picnic table. Two of those large and fancy misting fans blows cool mist into the air. About a dozen people are scattered across the grass, laughing and holding cold beers.

It’s a perfect party. The food is incredible, the music playing from the outdoor speakers is low and steady, and the company is great.

But I’m fucking miserable.

I stand near the edge of the patio, holding a plastic cup of lemonade. Across the lawn, standing near the massive grill, is Gideon. He looks so damn attractive, it’s killing me. He’s wearing a dark gray tank top that shows off the thick, powerful muscles of his forearms. His wavy black hair is slightly damp from the mist, and he’s holding a bottle of local beer.

Standing right next to him, laughing at something he just said, is Emery.

Emery is extra gorgeous today and currently leaning a little too close to Gideon. Gideon isn't doing anything wrong… he’s just standing there, nodding his head and offering his usual quiet, polite grunts. But every time Emery touches his arm and peers over at me, my stomach twists into a hard knot of jealousy.

Yeah. I’m fucking jealous. A gorgeous rock star has his hands on my man. I want to walk over there and show Emery who has the real claws between the two of us. I swear, the guy is doing it on purpose.

"And then the florist told me that peonies are completely out of season for October, can you believe that?"

I tear my eyes away from Gideon and look back at Rebecca. Rebecca is the part-time sales associate at Beauty and the Boutique, a sweet girl with massive brown eyes who is currently in the middle of planning a her dream wedding.

"That’s terrible," I say, trying my best to sound present and sympathetic, but Emery squeezes Gideon’s arm for the umpteenth time.

"It’s a clusterfuck, Avery," Rebecca sighs, waving her hands around. "I told Tessy that if we have to switch to garden roses, the entire color palette of the bridesmaids' dresses changes. Which means the vests we’re ordering from you and Ezra will need a lighter undertone. What do you think?"

"I think we can adjust the dye batch easily," I say, glancing up again. Emery is still there. Gideon is currently looking across the yard, his eyes scanning the crowd until they lock directly onto me. A heavy, heated look flares in his gaze, but before I can even smile at him, Kennedy slides right next to me. Rebecca shifts to her left and starts talking to Ezra.

"Don't look now, but your giant bee farmer has that hot Arcade Lake guy all over him," Kennedy whispers in my ear, taking a bite of his cheeseburger.

"I fucking noticed. What’s their deal?" I mutter, turning my back to the grill. "I’m trying to be professional. But if Emery touches his bicep one more time, I might throw my lemonade in his face."

"Oh my god, do it," Kennedy jokes, nudging my shoulder. "Besides, you're the one who has been trapped by the bridal committee for the last hour. Just go over there and claim your man."

"I’m trying," I whisper. "But Rebecca wants to talk about the wardrobe we’re designing."

“Tell her you’re off the clock!”

I laugh. “Language like that doesn’t exist to a bridezilla.”

By the time the party starts to wind down, the clock is ticking past ten. The heat of the day has finally dissolved into a cool, refreshing night breeze. Guests are hugging Ezra and Olly goodbye, carrying leftovers in foil plates toward their cars.

I help Ezra carry a stack of dirty plastic trays into the house. When I walk back onto the porch, I see Gideon standing by the bottom of the steps. He has his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his large shoulders hunched slightly against the night air.

Emery is nowhere to be seen.