Page 87 of The Other Side

Jesse turns to me, resting a palm on my bare shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I nod eagerly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

When I shed a quick smile, he bobs his head before steering his attention back to Roger.

I stand, walking to the restroom corridor. My hand wraps around the polished column of the entry point, and as soon as I disappear behind the corner, I retreat to peek one eye out. Lindsey, Roger, and Jesse don’t seem to have the slightest clue.

No matter the amount of paranoia crawling up my back at the moment.

Then I’m heading to the front of the restaurant.

When I peek over my shoulder one final time, it’s only a couple steps until I’m exiting the glass door. My heels tread along the concrete pavers of the walkway under the black awning. My head pokes left and right, the pastel hues of the evening sky transitioning to vibrant pinks and purples.

Spotlighting Brant’s Tacoma in the back corner.

My legs kick into action. I’m practically jogging along the asphalt of the parking area, and his dress shirt and black slacks appear.

He’s resting the bottom of one shoe on the front bumper behind him, and I almost mistake him for Jesse.

He’s dressed in Jesse’s usual attire. Minus the unfastened black tie casually draped over his shoulders.

My stomach pitches, my body decelerating when I begin to lose hope. Hope that I won’t have to be reminded of the recent events of my life.

Then his head swerves to me. Those hazel irises reminding me just how different he really is.

And I finally find her.

She’s swimming in those almond-shaped eyes.

I rush over until I’m lurching myself in his arms. His large body snuggles me so tight that I can hardly draw a breath in.

“You can’t be here,” I whisper harshly, my cheek planting against his torso. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s my favorite day of the year.” He murmurs the words into my hair like a serenade. His palm cups the back of my head, his thumb stroking there until my iced heart begins to thaw. “Happy Birthday, Callie.”

Goosebumps erupt on my flesh as his stubbled lips graze my hairline. The contact blends with the brush of his white dress shirt—the coziest blanket I’ve ever been wrapped in.

His woody scent threatens to swallow me, but I retreat from his hug just in time. My hands cup his elbows, and I incline my chin toward him.

It looks like his hair has grown a bit more on top. Thick and soft—perfect for sweeping my hands through.

Just like I remember.

“There was a last-minute networking event I had to attend,” he explains, referring to his clothes.

I shake my head. “I can’t stay. I have to go back,” I breathe through a panic.

“I know.” He nods, swallowing a fat knot. “But I have something for you. For your birthday,” he adds. “Do you think it’s possible that I can give it to you later?”

My palms drop from his elbows, and I glance over my shoulder to the steakhouse building. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Just seein’ ya is all I needed today.” Then my attention circles back to him. “And I really needed this. You don’t know how much,” I croak, wagging my head.

My eyes swell with syncing tears, and his hands dip into his pockets. “He’s going to Manhattan tonight, right?”

“Yes,” I answer, flicking my attention over my shoulder once more.

“If you decide to come, my door will be open.”

I dart my eyes to Brant, but he’s already backpedaling to his driver’s side. My throat bobs when he pulls the truck door handle.