Until Cobi (Until Her/Him #7)(14)

I’ll be back tonight

It will probably be late

Cobi

My heart feels heavy in my chest as I pick up the note and read it again. I close my eyes and lean my head back against my shoulders, trying to figure out how I can feel relief and fear at the exact same time. Without an answer, I set the note back down, grab my bottle of water then my keys and purse, and leave.

One thing I know for sure—nothing can ever happen between Cobi and me, even if I want everything to happen between us.





Chapter 4


Hadley

“WE LOVE YOU, HADLEY,” Kenyon says when we reach my car, and my fingers wrap tighter around my keys. There is always a little pain involved when I hear those words, pain because as much as I want to believe that I understand the emotion of love, I don’t think I do. Not really anyway.

I look way up. At six foot seven, Kenyon doesn’t just tower over me; he towers over everyone. Even Brie, who is six feet tall and always wears at least three-inch heels, has to tip her head way back to look up at her man. That’s one of the reasons she told me she fell in love with him. Most men she’d dated were her height, or not much taller, so she never got to wear heels, and the men never made her feel feminine or dainty. Kenyon could make some of the biggest men I know feel feminine and dainty, with his giant size and presence. He’s a mechanic; he’s rough around the edges, and could probably crush someone with one flick of his wrist, though I doubt he’d ever do that. He’s too nice, probably one of the nicest people I have ever met. “We’re just concerned about you.”

“I know.” I lean into him when he wraps his arms around me, and my gaze locks with Brie’s, who is standing close to us, when I see her eyes start to fill with tears. Once more, I swallow hard and whisper, “Just a couple more days, and then I promise I’ll talk to whoever you want me to talk to.”

“Swear?” Brie moves in closer, holding out her pinky, and I step away from Kenyon and wrap my pinky around hers before our thumbs press together.

“Swear.” With our hands still locked together, I wrap my arm around her.

“Are you sure we can’t talk you into staying with us, just for a few days?”

I smile and lean back to look at her. “No.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes then Kenyon’s arm wraps around my shoulders, squeezing me into his side before he lets me go and grabs Brie’s hand. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“When have I ever missed one of our Saturdays?” I ask back. For years, once a month, we go get our nails done, have lunch, and go see a movie. It’s our day.

“True. I’ll be at your place at ten to pick you up.”

“Eleven,” Kenyon states, and Brie tips her head back toward him.

When she reads the look on his face, she smiles then looks at me. “Eleven,” she says, and I giggle.

I open the door to my car and slide in behind the wheel. “See you tomorrow.”

“Call when you get home.”

“I will.”

“Also, tomorrow, we are going to have a serious talk about Cobi,” she says over her shoulder as Kenyon starts to lead her away.

“Great,” I mumble, and she laughs. At dinner, she brought Cobi up more than once. She also watched me closely, and looked at me like I was lying every time I told her I’m not interested in him.

I slam my door and watch through my front window as Kenyon walks her to his SUV and helps her in before going around to the driver’s side. They don’t pull out of the parking lot until I do, and I hear their horn honk as we take off in opposite directions.

When I make it home, I notice the street is empty, no news vans or media outlets in sight. Maybe the story of what happened is already old news, or maybe the media realized I had nothing to do with what happened to Harmony while she was working at the hospital.

I grab my mail from the box at the end of the driveway then glance to the left to see Tom standing on his front porch smoking a cigarette. Seriously, he has to be a mobster. What other kind of guy wears tracksuits when they are hanging at home? I give him a wave when our eyes meet, not surprised when he doesn’t wave back, but his chin does lift in greeting. With a shake of my head, I walk into my house, turning on all the lights as I go. I drop the mail and my purse on the island, then head to my bedroom and change into one of my nightgowns, throwing my robe over it. I wash my face, then settle on the couch to watch some TV for a couple hours before going to bed.

With tired eyes, I watch the time on my alarm clock change from 12:59 to 1:00 a.m. I’ve been lying in bed, sleep evading me for almost four hours now. Or maybe it’s me who is avoiding sleep? I wish I could say I haven’t been waiting up for Cobi, but the truth is I have been.

I pull my blanket up over my head, realizing how quiet my house is. It’s not lonely, just quiet. I had a cat for a few years; I adopted her from the Humane Society when I rented my first apartment my junior year of college. Her name was Shy. She was old and needed daily medication, but she was also sweet, even-tempered, loved to cuddle, and never acted out. Right after I adopted her, I took her to the vet for a checkup, and they told me they didn’t think she’d live longer than two years. They were right, but those two years were good ones, not only for her but for me too.

I miss her now more than ever. Having another living, breathing being around made the quiet not so loud. Maybe tomorrow I’ll check out my lease and see if it says anything about having a pet. If it says pets are okay with a deposit, I’ll talk to Tom.