EVERETT RENTED A car to take us to his father's charity gala.

Not just any car, but the 1956 Ford Thunderbird that Marilyn Monroe owned.

The swanky vehicle is idling alongside the curb as Everett holds the door open for me. He attempts to scan my face for a reaction. "Well? Do you like it?"

"How?" I ask, still dumbfounded as I climb inside. There isn't a top to it, so the leather feels cold against my skin. Thankfully, Everett pulls a jacket of mine out from the backseat and passes it over to me. He seems to have thought of everything.

He shrugs and climbs into the driver's seat. "It was sold at an auction years ago, and I contacted the seller to see if I could rent it for the night. There are a few perks to being Cameron Holden's son."

"And the car just appeared out of thin air?"

Everett chuckles, waving to a thin, bearded man down the street. "That's the owner," he says. "He'll get the car tonight after we get back from the gala."

Ugh, the things this man does to me.

Everett went into so much effort to make this night perfect. I'm living out something I could only dream of, and it's all because of him. The urge to interlink our fingers together is strong, but I refrain, unsure whether or not that's something I can do.

This is our first night doing something together without Liam. We've never gone anywhere outside his townhome just to...hang out. Plus, he told Izzy I was his date. What does that mean? Am I allowed to dance with him? Hold his hand? Do I even want to do those things?

Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see a few of Everett's brown strands of hair have escaped the gel, blowing freely in the wind, and as I roam my gaze over the tight features of his jawline, down to his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel...

"Are you nervous?" I didn't even consider what coming to this function for the first time would be like for him. For me, I've always wanted to experience the spotlight just once. Being on a red carpet is a dream to me but for Everett...

He shrugs. "I've tried to avoid being seen my entire life, but I can't hide forever. I'll be fine."

"We don't..." I wave toward the street in front of us. "I mean, this isn't something we have to do, Everett. I'll completely understand if it makes you uncomfortable, and if you'd rather stay in and watch a movie or something, we—"

There isn't a console between us, so when he wraps a hand around my thigh, squeezing it and tugging me beside him, I can't finish my sentence. "I want to," he says. "I'm not a man that does things unless he's certain. If I thought I'd chicken out, I never would have invited you. Tonight is about you, Em, and my goal is to make sure you have a good time."

His hand moves higher on my thigh, and the heat spreads through my veins, drowning out the whipping wind of the chilly March night.

"I don't know how I can ever thank you for this," I admit.

The corner of his lip turns up. "I can think of a few ways."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Growing up, Everett mentioned once or twice how annoying the paparazzi could be and how much pressure he felt to be on his best behavior. However, I always thought it was a bullshit excuse so he could continue to be a brooding, miserable teenager. He was rich, and I was jealous, but now...

"Everett, over here!"

"Who's the date?"

"Look this way!"

"Why did you come tonight?"

The lights are blinding. It's not as glamorous as television and magazines make it out to be. I can hardly see as we continue further down the red carpet, and when I peek up at Everett, he's rigid beside me, fists curled at his sides.

Why do these people care about what he does with his life? Why do they watch his every move? He's not famous, nor does he want to be. Now, I take back everything I ever assumed about him when we were growing up. This is stressful. I don't blame him for wanting to keep to himself.

Unlike growing up, when I'd assume that rigid stance was due to arrogance, I know better now that I've come to know him. Everett puts up this front to protect himself, and he's hidden from the lights because he's afraid of them. He's afraid to show his true self, fearing what the world will say. In high school, we'd go to parties, but he refused to put anything in his body that would kick his guard down, including alcohol, and I assumed it was because he had a stick up his ass, but I get it now. Everything makes sense.

He's just scared.

Closing the two feet of distance he kept between us on the carpet, I link my arm with his as we pose for a few photos, but where the cameras can't see from behind, I move his suit jacket to the side and brush a calming stroke of my hand across his lower back.

Almost instantly, his tension seems to fade, and he stares down at me with furrowed brows.

I know I shouldn't be touching him like this, but dammit, I care for him. I always have. Seeing him in this stressful situation and knowing he's doing this all for me? Everett came in swinging on a wrecking ball, and with just one hit, all the walls around my heart collapsed.

With his eyes locked on mine, I smile brightly, and he smiles back. The cameras are shuttering like crazy now. "You're doing great," I tell him.

He lowers his lips to my ear to whisper, "Save the praise for later, Emery."

Color blooms on my cheeks, and his hand twitches, almost like an instinct to wrap his hand with mine, but we can't. Not in front of the cameras. Not when Liam will see these photos. So I keep my arm looped in his as if I'm attending with him as a friend and nothing more, allowing him to escort us inside.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The fashion show begins only ten minutes after we arrive.

Somehow, we got front-row seats, but I don't think that's a coincidence. I have no clue who anyone is, and I haven't seen Everett's parents yet or his siblings, but as the models walk confidently down the runway, I don't say a single word to Everett.

I'm in awe of these designs—every single one of them.

It's always been my dream to have my looks showcased in a fashion show like this, but a part of me has always been insecure about whether or not I'll make it. I'm a girl from the slums of Los Angeles. What makes me think I could be the next Isabelle Holden?

Everett leans over to say, "It'll happen."

Can this man read my thoughts?

"You're talented," he continues, "and you work harder than anyone I know. Pretty soon, that purple dress with all the daisies will be on the cover of Vogue. Just be patient."

I rip my eyes from the runway, my heartbeat roaring in my ears. "How do you remember that?"

He shrugs as if it isn't a big deal. "You showed us your sketchbook that one time. I looked through it and liked that dress the best."

Liam didn't even give my designs the time of day. He just gave me a fake smile and said they were great when I knew he didn't take the time to analyze them. He was just playing the role of the supportive boyfriend.

But Everett... When he flipped the pages, I assumed he was coming up with more reasons to make fun of me. He didn't give me a lick of emotion when he was finished and passed it back to me. He sat there stone-faced and brooding, as always, and why is it that I remember the look on his face when he saw my designs for the first time but not Liam's?

Scanning his eyes, my vision is suddenly blurry from the emotion I'm forcing myself not to feel as I say, "Thank you."

"For what?"

I swallow down the sob. "For paying attention all these years."

Refusing to meet his gaze, I look straight ahead as Izzy comes out at the show's end to make her bow before the auction. The crowd rises to our feet, whooping and hollering to show our congratulations. Still, all of those cheers drown out when Everett places his hand on my lower back and brings his lips to my ear to whisper, "You will always hold my attention, Emery, and I'm done pretending like you won't."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

EARLY UPDATE!

WE DIDN'T HIT THE COMMENT GOAL LAST CHAPTER.

WTF :(

I'm sad.

Anyways, I'm having trouble keeping this story to myself lmao, so I did a surprise update.

What did you guys think?

This chapter is kind of short, so I'm still willing to update tomorrow ONLY if you guys get this chapter to 220 votes & 300 comments. 

YOU HAVE ONE DAY TO DO THIS!!

Can you make it?!

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