Until Cobi (Until Her/Him #7)(65)
“I can’t wait to meet her. I can’t wait to see you as a mom, and I’m looking forward to our future together and watching our family grow. So yeah, I’m excited.”
I listen to her yawn again then laugh when she groans loudly. “I’ll be right back.” She gets off the bed and rushes to the bathroom. When I don’t hear her getting sick—something that happens on occasion—I relax. The water goes on then off, and a moment later, she comes back and gets into bed, curling herself around me.
“‘Night, baby,” I whisper to the top of her head.
She doesn’t respond, because she’s already fallen asleep. With one hand resting on her stomach, the other curved around her back, I fall asleep with my entire world within my grasp.
December
I watch the happy couple enter the ballroom, along with everyone else, and smile when my cousin lifts his new wife’s hand in the air, grinning huge before he spins her around to face him. When he has her where he wants her, he dips her back over his arm and kisses her. Everyone applauds and laughs, including me. I’m happy for him, but happier for Hadley. Over the last few months, we’ve gotten really close, and I know from her past that she deserves her happily ever after more than most people do.
“I wonder who’s next,” my sister April says, and I look over at her, feeling myself frown.
“What?”
“I wonder who’s next. You know—the next person who’s going to fall in love. It seems to be happening at an alarming rate.” She takes a drink from her beer and glances around. “I’m saying not it. I have no desire to be shot at or kidnapped just to find love.”
“You’re so dramatic.” I shake my head at her.
“Am I?”
Okay, she’s not. There seems to be a theme when it comes to anyone with the Mayson last name falling in love. But still.
“Are you going to drink?” she asks, changing the subject and studying the glass of water in my hand.
“Probably not.” I move to one of the tables that is set up around the dance floor and take a seat, smiling at a few people I know who are already sitting down.
“Good, you get to be my DD for the night,” she says, sitting in the seat next to mine.
“Great,” I sigh, not really looking forward to babysitting her all night to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. I love my sister, but she tends to push the boundaries of stupid.
“Who’s that?”
I look in the direction her eyes are pointed, and the world around me seems to come to a standstill. Across the room, talking to my cousin Sage and Brie’s husband Kenyon, is a guy. Not just a guy, but the most gorgeous guy I have ever seen in my life. He’s tall, taller than Sage, and almost as tall as Kenyon, who’s practically a giant compared to everyone. His dark brown hair is longer on top and clipped short on the sides. He’s in profile, so I can’t see all of his face, but his jaw, covered in a rough-looking beard, is all sharp edges and straight lines. He has tattoos peeking out from above the edge of his collared shirt, and more on his thick forearms that I can see where his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His arms are so huge I doubt I could wrap both my hands around one of his biceps.
When he turns his body in my direction and smiles at something Sage says, my breath catches. I thought he was handsome in profile, but I was wrong. Straight on, his look is captivating and mysterious, with thick brows over his dark eyes and full lips surrounded by his beard.
“Whoever he is, I’m taking him home tonight,” my sister says, and my stomach plummets. “God, he’s hot. I can’t wait to.”
I swallow the sudden unexpected jealousy I’m feeling and really wish I hadn’t agreed to be her DD, because I don’t just need a drink; I need a whole bottle of tequila right now.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I hiss, cutting her off and catching her gaze.
“Getting laid is not stupid. You’d know that if you ever tried it once in a while.”
I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something mean then look around the room for a place to escape. The sign for the restroom is like a neon flashing light catching my attention. I get up. “I’ll be back,” I mumble, before I scurry away with my head down and my heart lodged in my throat.
Since growing up, my sisters and I have had a rule. If one of us likes a guy, he’s completely off limits, even if he’s not interested in whoever has a crush on him. That rule has saved us on more than one occasion, but now I wish the stupid rule didn’t exist. When I get to the restroom, I go to one of the stalls and stand there trying to get myself under control.
I know April, know she’s probably already made a move to talk to whoever he is, and know without a doubt that he will be interested, because I have never met a guy who isn’t interested in her. She’s beautiful, funny, and outgoing—three things I am not. I’m cute enough, can be funny when I’m with my friends or family, but it takes time for me to warm up to people I don’t know. I’m also the opposite of outgoing. I prefer books and laziness to getting out and having adventures. I have always been the same way.
After I know I’m not going to do something crazy like punch my sister in the face, I leave the bathroom and start to head toward the bar, figuring one glass of wine won’t hurt. I place my order with the bartender then lean into the wood bar top with my forearms.