Breathe In (Just Breathe, #1)(124)

It’s just a matter of which one and when.

“Good. Oh, Henry and I decided last night that if we are going to have bachelor and bachelorette party, that we want it a few days or a week before the wedding and we don’t want anything big . . . just a few friends,” she presents. “We’d don’t mind having the parties become one party either.”

“Really?! That could make some things easier. I’ll contact Joe to make plans,” I reply. “Have you and Henry picked the rings yet?”


“No, but we narrowed it down to three each. We might need your help when he gets back,” she states.

“Sure,” I confirm. “I’ve already started to look into getting the marriage certificate and license.”

“Thanks so much, Emma. I really appreciate all of your help. You don’t know how much having you help with all of this means to me,” she says.

“Of course, Mags. Anything for my sister,” I encourage.

“Does Jared know about the birthday party or is he still in the dark?”

“Still in the dark from what Nathan tells me,” I reinforce.

“Awesome. I can’t wait for Wednesday. I think it will be a great to get Henry’s and my attention off of the wedding for a little bit,” she admits.

“I bet,” I console. “I know how M?qīn and Nǎinai can be, even with the best of intentions.”

“I know, right?!” she agrees.

An hour after dinner and a session of sex, Maggie and I are curled up on my bed watching a movie with Sadie. My phone chirps halfway through and I discretely check to see who’s calling.

I don’t answer, but text Joe back. “Maggie’s over.”

“Is she missing Henry?” he writes.

“And, avoiding family regarding wedding opinions.” I return.

“How long is she staying?”

“Not sure. Most likely the whole weekend. Why?” I answer.

“Curious. Thought I might be able to convince you for another snuggle night,” he texts. “What are you ladies up to?”

“Movie,” I answer.

“Where?”

“My bed.”

It takes him a few extra seconds to reply. “Naked?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” He added a winking emoticon.

“We were earlier,” I jab.

Let’s see him respond to this.

“Any photos or video?” he texts after at least twenty seconds.

“Nope. Jealous?” I poke.

“A little,” he professes. “Was really hoping to get to see you.”

“See me or see me naked?” I pry.

Why not have a little fun? I’m safe texting.

“Both,” he returns.

I smile ironically at his admission.

“Henry tell you about the laid back bachelor and bachelorette party they want to do? They wouldn’t mind combining them into one?” I reply, skillfully moving the conversation off of me being naked and the idea of him being on top of me and naked out of my head.

“No. Good to know, though,” he confirms. “Looks like we get to spend some extra time together. For planning purposes, of course.”

“Right . . .” I sarcastically respond.

“Who are you talking to?” Maggie interrupts.

Before I can answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Henry,” she squeals.

I pause the movie as she leaves the bedroom for some private time. “Henry just called,” I inform Joe.

Why did I just tell him?

“Alone at last,” he muses. “So, who’s better to snuggle with?”

“Up for debate,” I taunt.

“If you’d stay the night I could sway you or change your mind,” he writes.

“Just friends,” I assert.

“For now . . . .” He kindly changes the subject, “Talked with Jared earlier.”

“About what?”

“General stuff. Looks like he still doesn’t know about Wednesday,” he confirms.

“Good. Nathan will be happy to hear that,” I reply.

“How long do Maggie and Henry usually talk?”

“Not sure. Why?”

“The more they talk, the more time I get with you,” he comments. “Will you switch to the phone?”

“Why?”

“So I can hear you.”

“Why do you need to hear me?” I write.

“It’s easier to know and understand your reaction,” he states. “And, I like hearing your voice.”

“No,” I object.

I want to hear his voice too, but I like the advantage texting provides, ensuring the mystery of what I say and what I mean.

“Why not?”

Maggie bounces back in the room with an improved mood.

“Maggie’s back. Starting movie,” I inform him.

“Text me later,” he writes.

“Maybe,” I contend.

“Please.”

“Can’t guarantee anything,” I say.

“I’ll be hoping you do. Goodnight, beautiful,” he texts.

My fingers stutter across the phone screen to write, “Goodnight, Joe.”