The Rules of Dating My Best Friend's Sister(58)

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After about a half hour, my phone buzzed with a text.

Holden: Chez Josephine in Midtown. Enjoy your romantic dinner.

***

Just when you think it’s safe…

I hadn’t seen or heard a peep from next door over the last twenty-four hours. But the moment the elevator doors slid open, none other than my neighbor was standing inside. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

Holden’s face fell as he took in Warren and me all dressed up. “Oh, hey.”

I smiled halfheartedly. “Hi.”

Holden had drumsticks in his hand. He tucked them into the waistband of his jeans and lifted two amps from the ground, one in each hand. His eyes did a quick sweep over my little black dress as he stepped out of the elevator.

“Looks like you’re all ready for your romantic evening. Hope it’s everything you dreamed it would be.”

I just wanted to get on the damn elevator and put distance between us, but Warren didn’t immediately follow me in when Holden got off. He held one side of the elevator doorframe to keep the doors from sliding shut. “Are you playing tonight?”

Holden turned. “Yep.”

“Where? Maybe Laney and I will stop by after dinner.”

Holden’s eyes flashed to me and back to Warren. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do that. You should enjoy your romantic evening. Plus, I don’t think the place is really your vibe.”

“Maybe not, but Laney told me how talented you are, and I think it’ll be fun.”

Holden’s lips pursed, but eventually he nodded. “The Villager. It’s downtown.”

Warren nodded. “Great. Maybe we’ll see you later.”

***

“This place was really nice.” I wiped the corners of my mouth with a napkin. “Thank you for finding it and making the plans.”

I hadn’t told Warren that Holden had texted me with a recommendation for a romantic restaurant last night. The thought that he’d probably been there with someone else was too much for me to handle. But Warren had reached out to one of his colleagues, who had given him the name of this place.

“Everything was delicious, but I think the company is what made it special.” Warren tucked his credit card into the leather portfolio and reached across the table for my hand. “I think we needed this, my love. Lately I’ve felt like we’ve had a bit of a disconnect. I’m sure it’s because of the distance between us, but it’s made me realize that I need to come visit more often and put in more effort.”

It was screwed up, but my gut reaction to my fiancé saying he wanted to visit more was one of dread. Dinner had been really nice—the food was delicious, our conversation flowed naturally, and a talented piano player played softly from the other side of the room. I should’ve felt wooed and special—but instead I was…bored. Just thinking that made me feel like a horrible human being. But the thing about feelings is, while they may not be pretty, there’s usually a lot of truth in them. And the truth was, I couldn’t stop comparing what I felt like with Warren to how I felt when I was around another man. Holden made me feel alive, while I’d felt numb making dinner conversation with my fiancé. There was just no spark, no butterflies, no electricity running through my veins. Sadly, I’d had no idea any of those things were even missing before I came to New York. I’d blindly settled into a routine of nice, not really having anything to compare it to. And now I worried that what I’d felt around Holden couldn’t be unfelt. Could I tuck what I knew a relationship could feel like back into the box when I left New York and go back to being happy with nice?

That was the big question—one I didn’t have the answer to.

I smiled and nodded. “I could come home to visit more, too.”

When we were ready to go, Warren stood and held his hand out to help me up.

“Thank you.”

He pulled me close for a spontaneous hug. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

Outside the restaurant, Warren stepped to the curb. He raised his hand to hail a cab coming down the block. “You ready to go party now?”

“You mean Holden’s show?”

Warren nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing his band play.”

“You are?”

The cab pulled up, and Warren opened the back door. “I feel bad for insulting his career last night. Your brother’s friends are important to you, so they’re important to me.”

“I appreciate that, but…I’m sort of tired. It’s fine if we skip it.”

“We don’t have to go for very long. Let’s just stop in for a few songs.”

I sighed and ducked into the cab. “Okay…yeah, sure.”

The Villager was packed when we walked in. I felt slightly relieved that we were stuck at the back bar, and Holden probably wouldn’t even notice we’d come. Warren talked to the bartender while I looked around the club. Most of the women were dressed very differently than I was in my demure little black dress that came to my knee and conservative pumps. They had on cropped tops with abs showing, skimpy strapless dresses, and jeans that looked painted on. It made me feel uncool and super out of place.