4— Delusional

Elmer Reese

The restaurant was expensive.

Of course it was.

But with Neville Evans in the establishment, he could make it irritating just by existing in it.

The entire Phantom GP racing team was already there. A private dining area had been reserved.

Drivers.

Executives.

Engineers and mechanics huddled in small groups, talking as they ate.

And right in the middle of those groups was Neville.

Almost as if he could tell someone was looking at him, he glanced up at me.

The corner of his lips curved.

I scoffed, looking away immediately.

Asshole.

“Ernest, Elmer, over here!” An engineer from Neville's table waved at my brother and me.

Ernest didn't waste any time as he headed towards the table.

There were two empty seats, one next to the engineer who had called us and another right next to Neville.

“F**k,” I cursed, pulling my brother back.

“What happened?” Ernest asked concernedly.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“An emergency.”

Ernest turned fully towards me, his arms folded. A crease appeared between his eyebrows.

“What emergency, Elmer?”

“The seating arrangement.”

Ernest turned and glanced at the table, then at me. He pursed his lips as if he were tired of me.

“You’re an adult. Figure it out,” Ernest dismissed me as he walked towards the table. He sat next to the engineer, not his f**king friend.

Traitor.

I stood there, contemplating my options.

I could leave.

Fake a seizure or pretend to receive a call and escape.

“Planning to stand there all evening, sweetheart?” Neville's familiar voice came. He was looking at me with pure amusement in his eyes.

“Shut up, Neville,” I glared at him, walking towards the table.

His smile widened when I reached him.

“Move your leg,” I glared at him.

“What?”

“Your leg. It's blocking the chair.” I pointed at his leg.

“Oh.” He grinned, moved his leg, and helped me adjust my chair.

“You don't have to,” I grumbled, sitting down in my chair.

As I settled down, our shoulders brushed slightly. That was when I noticed how close we were.

I shifted away, trying to calm my heart, which was always unstable around him.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Hmm, hmm,” I responded without looking at him.

“You look tense.”

“This is how I look around an idiot.”

“That's unfortunate. I was hoping you would be comfortable around me,” he said, making me turn towards him with a glare.

“Why would I be comfortable around you?”

“Because I'm incredibly charming.”

“You're incredibly delusional.”

Neville laughed.

His shoulders shook slightly.

I hated the sound.

I hated how his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way he looked so much younger when he smiled.

Mostly, I hated the fact that I noticed all of it.

“Are you going to keep staring at me?” Neville said.

I nearly choked on my saliva.

“I wasn't staring!”

“Of course not.”

“I was only looking at the wall.”

Neville glanced over his shoulder. “Hmm, interesting wall.”

“Shut up.”

“Very interesting wall.”

I grabbed my menu, trying hard to concentrate as if it would erase Neville and today's embarrassment or perhaps allow me to manifest myself into another dimension.

Unfortunately, the universe had another plan, or Neville was just sent to destroy every moment of peace I was trying to have.

“You know, if you wanted to keep my jacket, you could have asked,” he said quietly.

I whipped my head towards him. He had already leaned in with that stupid grin on his face.

“Say that again,” I gritted out, my face heating up.

“The jacket.”

“I heard you.”

“Then why did you ask?”

I leaned closer. Our eyes held each other’s.

“Because I want to confirm if you're that stupid.”

He grinned.

“You're blushing.”

“No, I'm flushed because I'm pissed.”

“What should I do to lessen your anger, Your Majesty?” he said.

“Neville.”

“Hmm?”

“I will stab you with this fork.”

“That's a butter knife, sweetheart.”

I looked down at my hand.

F**k.

He laughed so hard that the engineer across from us glanced over at us.

I wanted to crawl under the table and hide there all night.

I dropped the knife, then stomped on Neville's leg in retaliation.

Neville jolted, his face scrunched up in pain.

I smiled sweetly. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

I raised my leg to kick him again, but he caught me by the ankle, moving his leg out of my reach.

My body stiffened at his touch. It was warm. He didn't pull or squeeze as he rested his hand there.

He simply looked at me with a smile.

I stared at him in horror. “Let me go.”

He didn't answer me, so I attempted to kick him again, and he let me go.

“I hate you,” I murmured.

He laughed as if I'd just cracked a joke.

God, I hated him so much.

And I thought he knew how much, yet he still made me feel miserable.

——★

Dinner was an absolute disaster.

On my own part.

Everyone else seemed to enjoy themselves, while I ate and constantly glared at Neville.

My brother, Ernest, proudly talked about my achievements.

And how I got the job of an engineer at the age of twenty-three.

He was reminding everyone that I'd done it all by myself.

Neville, Ernest, and I shared a love of F1 racing, just in different ways.

While Ernest and Neville loved to drive, I loved to look at the car data and analyse it.

I was happy that I had got my dream job, while my brother's dream had stopped just at the beginning of his career.

“I have an announcement to make,” Ernest said, hitting his fork against his glass.

I looked up at Ernest with a smile, his best friend grinning.

“I want to tell everyone that I've been offered an opportunity. A very good opportunity.”

I frowned.

Wait, just one month ago, another big racing team had offered Ernest a job coaching their rookies, and he had been unsure about taking it.

I had tried to convince him to take the job, but he had refused. It had been a long time since he'd been on the circuit.

I thought it would be good for him, but he had told me he would think about it.

My eyes gleamed. He was considering taking it.

“I'll be coaching the Apex GP rookies for a few months!” Ernest finished his announcement.

Everyone cheered, clapped, and congratulated him.

I smiled and mouthed, “Congratulations.”

I was happy that he had accepted the offer.

Then my phone beeped.

It was an email from the manager of Ernest's and my condo.

I clicked on the email.

Mr. Reese,

The building needs some renovations, and you might need to vacate the condo for a short while, depending on how long the necessary repairs will take.

Thank you.

“You can stay at my place,” Neville's voice came from beside me.

I snapped my head towards him. He was staring at my phone.

“Mind your business.”

“You'll need a place to stay.”

“If you read the message clearly, it wasn't necessary for us to vacate the condo,” I snapped at him.

“We'll see.”