"We're still close."

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"Have some fun" Cameron had said. Ethan glanced around the large venue lit romantically by candles, the scent of barbecue clouding his nostrils, and grimaced. Ten feet from him, at the entrance, stood the soon to be bride and groom, all smiles and laughter as they greeted their guests into the evening celebration. Ethan's frown deepened as he stalked closer. This was far from his idea of fun.

"Welcome -" The words hung in the air. "Oh my."

Ethan noticed the way Eliza Wells glanced him up down and around, how her cheeks blushed. He outstretched a hand charismatically, his walls built so high up that his smile almost looked sincere. A true actor.

"Pleasure, Ms. Wells." Ethan purposely avoided Grayson's intense orbs of green.

"The pleasure's all mine." She glanced up at her groom to be, gushing visibly. "I can't believe we're meeting just now."

Grayson collected himself, pulling on his own mask of charisma and calm. He wrapped an arm around the waist of the woman standing beside him, firm and manly, knowing full well the effect it had on Ethan.

"Eliza, meet Ethan."

"I've heard countless stories about you - not all positive may I add." She chortled, throwing her head back in that effortlessly beautiful way. "Grayson can't get enough of you. You two must have been close growing up."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, opening his mouth to outright deny the statement when Grayson interrupted him.

"We're still close." His words appeared innocent but his tone reeked of mock. "Aren't we, brother."

Ethan smiled. Wider, faker. "Of course." Tugging once again on his tousled brown locks, he spoke. "Good evening to the two of you, I don't want to occupy more of your time."

"No. I've been looking forward to this meeting for ages." Eliza cried, her hands coming to grasp Ethan's shirt. Ethan looked for an escape, his mask cracking from being stretched too far. Before the pieces began to crumble, an arm wrapped itself around his shoulder.

Grayson.

"Honey, we'll have all the time in the world to catch up with Ethan. Won't we, brother?"

Ethan stifled a chill as Grayson's hands moved lower, resting on his lower back cunningly. Grayson leaned in, whispering ever so quietly.

"You're not going to run away are you, Ethan."

Ethan clenched his jaw, shrugging the arms off himself.

"You'll stay for the wedding, won't you Ethan?" Eliza coaxed, smiling that sickeningly sweet smile.

Despite the aching resonating within his chest, the cracks in his mask and the certainty that his lips had given up on smiling, Ethan nodded.

"Of course."

As Ethan trudged off, into the venue, he could no longer focus on the plethora of candles or the scent of burning meat, for all he could see was that sinful smirk dancing across Grayson's lips.



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