Until Cobi (Until Her/Him #7)(10)

“You were cute.” My head flies around to look at him, and I study his expression to see if he’s lying. “You were,” he says like he knows what I’m thinking. “Do you still wear glasses?”

“No, I had Lasik surgery a few years ago.”

“Bummer, those glasses were cute on you.” He taps my picture.

“Are you messing with me right now?” I narrow my eyes on his.

He tips his head to the side. “Messing with you?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out what the heck is going on. You being nice, sending clothes for me, and then showing up here and demanding to hang out to make sure I’m okay.”

“Not sure you’re ready for that much honesty.”

Okay, what does that mean? I don’t ask. Part of me doesn’t want to know. Really, I don’t think I could handle his honesty right now. “Maybe we should just watch some TV,” I mumble.

His eyes turn knowing and he smiles. “Good idea, baby.”

I don’t say anything more. I set the yearbook down, pick up the remote, and turn the TV back on. I flip through channels for something to watch and end up stopping on a show about treasure hunters. We sit in silence through two episodes, and never, not once, do the guys looking for treasure ever find anything more than some old pottery. Still, I can’t seem to stop hoping they’ll find what they’re looking for. When the third episode starts, my eyes get heavy, but I force myself to keep them open, not trusting that I will be able to keep the memories at bay if I fall asleep.

“Hadley.” At my name, I look at Cobi and see his expression is soft and filled with understanding. “You’re safe. Lay down and close your eyes. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I—”

“Promise,” he cuts me off. “You’re safe with me.”

Safe with him.

Lord, Cobi Mayson is seriously sweet—and seriously observant. I lick my lips, and without a word, I lie down, resting my head against the arm of the couch. I tuck my legs up close to my chest so my feet don’t touch him, then let out a breath when he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and places it over me. My eyes start to feel funny, like I might cry, but I refuse to give in to the feeling. I lie there for a long time, not expecting to fall asleep, but apparently I do.

And with Cobi looking after me, I sleep peacefully.





Chapter 3


Hadley

“TIME’S UP.” AT BRIE’S statement, my eyes go from the paperwork I’m filling out to her. I watch her shut the door to my office then walk across the carpet and take a seat in the chair across from mine. She pauses, running her hands down the top of her pants before looking at me. “We need to talk about Cobi Mayson.”

At the mention of Cobi, my heart starts to beat oddly and my stomach drops. When I woke up this morning, Cobi wasn’t sitting on my couch a few inches away, where he was last night when I fell asleep. At some point, he maneuvered us so that I was tucked tightly against his chest with his strong arm around my waist, holding me securely against him so I wouldn’t fall off the couch. I came awake to the feel of him around me and his breath whispering against my neck.

I knew then that I couldn’t handle what was happening, so I did what any sane girl would do. I pretended nothing happened at all. I quickly and carefully got away from him, stood up, and started getting ready for work. I expected him to be gone when I got out of the shower or to still be asleep, but instead, he was in my kitchen making me coffee and breakfast, as if he had done it a million times. He was also still there when Brie showed up to take me to work, and even though she didn’t ask and he didn’t say much, I knew she was curious as to why he was at my place so early.

“Cobi?” I try my hand at playing dumb, but her eyes narrow on mine.

“Cobi Mayson, who was at your house this morning.”

“Oh, that?” I wave my hand out in front of me. “That was nothing. He’s just being nice.”

“Did he stay with you last night?” I start to open my mouth, but before I can make up a fib, she continues. “And don’t lie. I know when you’re lying to me.”

I chew on my bottom lip, something that is a horrible habit of mine, and then mutter, “He slept on the couch.”

“He slept on your couch?”

“Well…” I pause, trying to come up with something to say, and then figure a half-truth will soothe her. “I think he knew I would have a hard time sleeping if I was alone.” I don’t feel guilty for leaving out the fact that I also slept on the couch, that I’m pretty sure I slept better than I have in months, maybe years, and that I woke up with him holding me.

“You could have had me or Kenyon there, or like I said yesterday, you could have stayed with us.”

“I didn’t exactly invite him over, Brie. He showed up and kind of refused to leave, even when I asked him to go a few dozen times.”

She blinks at me. “What?”

“Like I said, he’s being nice.”

“Right, and this morning when I got there, he was in your kitchen cleaning up what looked like breakfast dishes.”

“He was hungry.” My stomach flutters like it did this morning when I came out of my bedroom to eggs, toast, and coffee, and him waiting for me.