CHAPTER 68: CHAPTER 68: JEALOUSY IN HIS EYES

I sighed, caught between nerves and anticipation. Just then, we pulled up at the bar.

Dean and I walked inside and chose a corner table, a spot that was private enough to feel secure for Evric. The place wasn’t new to me, Dean and I had been here plenty of nights before, usually to drink, laugh, and pick up girls.

We ordered, and while we waited for the drinks to arrive, my phone buzzed. A message from Evric.

I’ll be late. Need to finish some things at the office.

I replied quickly: Okay. We’re at table 12, by the corner. I’ll be waiting.

Got it. Be there soon, he wrote back.

Moments later, a pair of women approached our table. They didn’t look like the type you’d find working the crowd. No, these two were different, elegant, polished, high standards written all over them. The kind that smelled of money and didn’t need to hustle.

They introduced themselves, and soon enough we were chatting. One of them slid into the seat beside me. She was friendly, laughing at my jokes, and when she asked what I did, I casually mentioned that I owned a restaurant. Her eyes lit up with interest, and she told me she was an event planner.

That made us both smile, her world and mine could easily connect. She explained how she usually stayed home but had come out tonight because her friend insisted, and somehow, the conversation between us flowed effortlessly.

We joked, we laughed, and before long I handed her my phone so she could put in her number. I was just about to slip it back into my pocket when a familiar voice cut through the music.

"Babe."

My head snapped up. Evric was standing there, eyes fixed on me. I knew he’d seen the moment I exchanged numbers, but he didn’t react, not openly, at least. What he did was call me "babe" loud enough for me to hear, though the music drowned it out for everyone else. That was Evric: bold and unapologetic, never caring who might be around.

I leaned toward the woman and whispered in her ear. She got the message, gave me a polite smile, and left with her friend.

Evric slid into the seat next to me, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. Dean had been watching him the whole time, and I couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at my lips.

Evric didn’t notice him at first. Instead, he leaned in and asked, "How was work today?"

"Fine," I said, then returned the question.

"Same," he replied, eyes searching mine. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he asked, "Can I get a kiss?"

Normally I might have teased him, made him wait, but not this time. I leaned in and kissed him, slow and deliberate, because I wanted Dean to see. To remind him that Evric wasn’t just some guy. He was mine.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Dean mouthing, Wow, I’m completely invisible.

I almost laughed, but that was the moment Evric finally noticed him.

"Evric," I said, gesturing between them. "Meet my friend Dean."

Dean gave him a nod, but before I could continue, he cut me off with a smirk. "No need, Zayn. I already know him. But damn... how can a man be this perfect?"

He didn’t even say it out loud, he sent it straight to my phone.

This man is unreal.

I sent back nothing but laughing emojis.

Evric, however, wasn’t laughing. He watched me the whole time, his gaze never leaving my face, he was calm . I knew he was biting back words about the girl and the number.

Dean, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the air by chatting casually with him. Evric responded politely, but his attention always flicked back to me.

After a while, Dean excused himself to the restroom. The moment he left, I could practically feel Evric’s patience straining. He didn’t say anything yet, but I knew it was coming.

When Dean returned, I stood and said, "We’re heading home."

Dean and Evric exchanged a quick handshake, and just like that, Dean waved us off.

As we walked out together, I could feel the storm brewing in Evric. He’d stayed calm inside the bar, but I knew he wasn’t going to let this night slide so easily.

When we stepped outside, ready to head home, I spotted the girl from earlier exiting the bar with her friend. She caught my eye, waved, and made a little gesture with her hand as if to say, Call me. I gave a small nod back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Evric’s jaw tighten. His patience was already wearing thin, but he didn’t say a word. That silence was heavier than anything he could have spoken.

The car ride home was tense. He didn’t look at me, didn’t touch me, just stared out the window, lips pressed in a hard line. I knew he was holding it all in, saving it for later.

When we arrived at his place, he went straight to shower without a word. I followed after, showering separately. By the time I came out, the air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts.

We didn’t talk much. He climbed into bed, but I stayed up, phone in hand. I shouldn’t have, but I opened the chat with the girl and sent her a message. One message turned into two, then three.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

The sound of the chat notifications filled the room, sharp in the quiet night. I could feel his eyes on me even though he said nothing. Finally, without a word, Evric got out of bed and left the room.

The door shut behind him, and for the first time that night, I wondered if I had gone too far.

I didn’t go after him right away.

Instead, I stayed on the bed, my phone still glowing in my hand. I kept chatting with the lady, ignoring the heaviness that lingered in the silence he left behind.

One message. Another. Then another.

Eventually, the excitement of the conversation faded, replaced by a strange emptiness. The notifications went quiet, and so did I.

I finally set the phone aside and sat up. The room felt too cold without him. My chest tightened, and against my pride, I pushed myself up and went to check on him.

I found him sitting alone in the living room, a drink in his hand, staring at nothing. His shoulders were tense, his jaw locked. He didn’t even look up when I walked in.

But as I drew closer, I caught something I’d never seen before.

The air was heavy, filled with a bitter smoke that clung to my throat. My eyes darted to his hand, not the one holding the glass, but the other. A faint glow burned at the tip.

"Evric," I called, my voice sharp with disbelief. "What is that in your hand? Do you... smoke?"

Slowly, he turned his head toward me, his eyes unreadable, his expression too calm to be real. He exhaled, and the thin cloud of smoke curled between us like a wall.

"I do worse than smoking," he replied flatly.

"What?"

The words hit me harder than the smoke ever could.