When we both shook our heads, he left, and silence fell between Emma and me.

“Why does he call you Oz?” she asked out of the blue.

I’d been hoping she’d missed that. But Emma missed very little. “My last name is Osmond. Some people call me Oz.” I copped a smug smile. “Are you going to tell me I don’t look like a funny little wizard now?”

She laughed. “To be fair, there’s nothing little about you.”

My lower gut heated. “Not a damn thing, honey pie.”

“Certainly not your ego.”

“It isn’t ego when it’s true.”

Emma rolled her eyes and picked up her water to take a drink. Her gaze went to Sal standing in line. “You get the feeling that Sal and Amalie are trying to throw us together?”

“Caught on to that, did you?”

Her nose wrinkled. “They aren’t exactly subtle about it.”

She didn’t sound annoyed—more like embarrassed. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, so I didn’t bother dwelling.

“No.” I took a sip of beer. “They aren’t.”

Emma rested a forearm on the table and leaned close, bringing her light, sweet scent with her. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of your way.”

And then it hit me. She was looking out for my comfort. She would end up leaving if she thought I wanted it. The truth was right there on her expressive face.

“Don’t.” The word tripped free without my permission.

What the hell, Oz?

A frown of confusion formed between her brows. “What?”

You can still fix this. Backtrack, moron. Backtrack.

“Don’t stay out of my way.”

Idiot.

Surprise smoothed out her features as her indigo gaze darted over my face, trying to read me. I didn’t know how she could, when I couldn’t even figure myself out.

“It’s ridiculous,” I blurted. “Trying to avoid each other just because they’re bored and have watched too many episodes of The Bachelor.”

Amusement lit her eyes. “Don’t you mean The Bachelorette?”

I hid my smile by taking another sip. “I said what I meant.”

“You got it wrong. I’m definitely the prize.”

Yes, you are.

“Whatever you say, Snoopy.”

She laughed, a glorious sound that danced right over my heart and tugged the breath right out of my lungs. A man could be persuaded to do foolish things to hear that laugh again and again.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one affected. Heads turned our way, and that was when it happened.

Emma

I liked Lucian. This was worrisome, because despite his teasing and quick wit, he was as closed off a man as I’d met in a long time. But he made me laugh, even when he was pretending to be a grump. Pretending because it was clear he’d been enjoying himself.

Not so much by his manner, but in the crinkles around his jade eyes when he suppressed a laugh and the way his wide shoulders relaxed the more we sparred. I knew he even enjoyed Sal needling him; theirs was a strange friendship, in that neither one seemed to want to admit to it. Lucian because he clearly didn’t want to admit to being happy about anything. Sal was more of a mystery, but I had to wonder if, despite his flamboyant outer shell, he was actually a bit shy.

Or maybe I was full of it and imagining things that weren’t there.

I wasn’t imagining the way Lucian looked at me now, though. That stern brow eased, his eyes widening just a little, as though shocked, as his lips parted. He appeared . . . awed. At the sound of my laughter, apparently.

That awe floored me. My insides swooped with a funny sort of flutter I hadn’t felt in ages. Not since I was sixteen, when soulful artist and high school crush Michael Benton had smiled at me. Even that moment hadn’t been followed by a hard kick to my sternum as my heart began to beat faster.

This was what happened when liking someone mixed with attraction. Unwanted but strong and pure. I didn’t know how to hide it or shove it away. I could only stare back at Lucian with equal awe. I’d vowed to keep away from shallow attraction, but what was I to do with this? With him?

My laughter had caught people’s attention. I knew this on an instinctual level, honed after fame graced me with her light. And though it was a sign that my career was a success, public attention could also be a pain in the ass when I wanted to be left alone.

I braced myself as a few young men walked toward the table. Funny thing was Lucian did, too, even though they were in his periphery. His awareness of the situation surprised me, but then again, maybe who I was never left his mind.

I didn’t like that idea. Fame was a weird phenomenon. You chased it, but once you had it, you never felt secure or safe. Paranoia about who was in your life for what reasons, fear that you’d never be good enough, popular enough. I clenched my fists in my lap and hated myself for worrying about any of it.