Page 37 of Enchanted to Meet You

The table blinked up at him in collective confusion. Landon stopped mid-bite, a fry halfway to his mouth.

“What?” Landon asked. “Dude, we just got here. You haven’t even touched your food.”

“Got somewhere to be,” Rhys said curtly. He reached down, his fingers wrapping firmly around my wrist—not painful, but an unyielding anchor—and gently pulled me out of the vinyl booth.

Justin leaned back, a mocking sneer curling his lip. “Somewhere to be? It’s barely nine o’clock, Montgomery. What, are you two turning into pumpkins?”

“Maybe they just want some privacy,” Kelcey said in a mocking voice, her sharp eyes tracking the way my knees were visibly shaking. “Are you okay, Ainsley? You look like you’re about to faint.”

I couldn’t answer. My dad was zipping up his coat. He was turning toward the aisle.

Rhys stepped directly into my line of sight, his broad, athletic frame acting as a wall that completely blocked me from the front entrance. He didn’t look at Kelcey. He didn’t even acknowledge Justin.

“We’re leaving,” Rhys repeated, his voice flat and leaving no room for debate. He pulled a fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket and slammed it onto the table. “That covers the bill. Don’t wait up.”

Landon let out a low wolf-whistle. “Oho! Okay, okay! Say no more, Captain! Go have your little date!”

This prompted a wave of low chuckles and kissy noises from the rest of the team.

Rhys ignored them completely. Keeping his body wedged firmly between me and the rest of the restaurant, he kept his hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me toward the side exit—the service door that opened directly into the dark, gravel parking lot behind the building.

The cold night air hit my face like a physical blow, shocking the oxygen back into my lungs. I gasped, my sneakers crunching on the loose gravel as Rhys led me double-time across the lot toward his black SUV. The quiet of the night felt deafening after the claustrophobic noise of the diner.

He unlocked the vehicle, pulled open the heavy passenger door, and practically lifted me into the seat. A second later, the driver’s side door slammed shut, and Rhys was beside me in the dark cabin.

He didn’t start the engine right away. He just sat there, his hands gripping the top of the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white under the amber glow of the parking lot lights.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, stripped of every ounce of the arrogant, teasing edge he usually wore like armor.

“Yeah,” I lied automatically, staring straight through the windshield at the dark line of pine trees bordering the lot. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Rhys didn’t call me out on the lie. He just turned the key, shifted into reverse, and tore out of the parking lot, throwing gravel against the underside of the SUV as he steered us far away from the main strip and up into the winding back roads.

We drove in total silence for a long time. The heat was humming softly against my ankles, blowing warm air into the floorboards, but I couldn’t stop the small, pathetic shivers running through my shoulders. I sat with my knees pulled up against my chest, swallowing the lump of hot, bitter acid sitting at the back of my throat, my hands completely hidden inside the oversized sleeves of his varsity jacket.

When Rhys finally pulled over, it wasn’t at my house. He cut the engine at the gravel turn-off near the old water tower overlooking the valley—a quiet, deserted overlook where the lights of the town twinkled like scattered embers in the dark below.

The silence that followed the engine dying was heavy. Rhys leaned back in his seat, resting his arms on the wheel, staring out into the dark. He didn’t turn to look at me, and he didn’t demand an explanation. He just gave me space.

And honestly, that was the only reason I didn’t completely shut down. If he had acted like he felt sorry for me, or if he’d pushed me to spill my guts, I would have put my walls up instantly. But Rhys was just... sitting there. He was an outside party. He didn’t know my mom, he didn’t care about my family drama, and he wasn’t going to report back to Sebastian. He was just a guy I was using for a fake relationship who happened to be driving the car.

And strangely, that made him the safest person in the world to talk to right now.

“He left us last July,” I said. I picked at a loose thread on the fleece cuff of his jacket, staring down at my lap. “He was having an affair with that girl in the booth.” I swallowed hard, forcing the next words out before my throat could close up completely. “She’s like twenty-five. And she’s pregnant.”

Beside me, I saw Rhys’s hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel, but he didn’t interrupt. He just listened.

“He hasn’t called me since then,” I continued, the words coming easier now, like slipping into a cold lake. “Except for one time in December to tell me that Hilary was having a baby girl, and that he hoped I could ‘be mature’ about it. And then, last week, this... this ridiculous, gold-foiled invitation showed up in our mailbox for her baby shower. Like we’re all just supposed to play along.”

A dry, bitter laugh escaped my throat. I shoved my hair back from my face with cold hands.

“I haven’t seen him in person in ten months. And he was sitting there, laughing, buying her pie at a diner five miles from our house, while my mum is working fifty hours a week just to pay the mortgage he walked away from.”

I stopped, my breath hitching slightly. The air in the car felt quiet. I stared down at my knees, suddenly struck by how absurd the whole situation was. I had just laid out the messiest, most embarrassing piece of my personal life to Rhys Montgomery—my brother’s bitterest rival, a guy I barely knew, someone who spent his free time trying to make me uncomfortable.

I waited for the inevitable awkwardness. I waited for him to shift uncomfortably, or to offer some generic, useless comfort like “I’m sure he still cares about you” or “Divorce is just hard on everyone.”

Rhys turned slightly in his seat, leaning his shoulder against the door frame.