Until May (Until Her/Him #11)(45)

“Do we all understand that Monopoly money will not be accepted tonight?” Bridgett asks, and people start to laugh.

“Ten thousand,” May repeats, sounding pissed while pink spreads up her neck and cheeks.

“Do we have ten thousand and one?” my sister asks, looking around the room, which has gone quiet, obviously feeling the anger rolling off the woman at my side. “Okay.” Bridgett plasters a fake smile on her face. “Going once… going twice…” She lifts her glass. “Congratulations to the woman in the black dress.” She passes the mic off to the man who’s responsible for running the auction for the event, then heads off the stage to my mother, who looks annoyed.

“I need to use the restroom.” May pushes back from the table, and I quickly stand along with her.

“Doll.” I grab for her hand, but she shakes me off.

“I’ll be right back.” She pats my chest, then she looks at Herbert. “Please excuse me.”

“Of course, kid.” He smiles at her, and I watch her walk across the room, then toss my napkin down on the table.

“Don’t do it,” Herbert says, catching my attention, and I meet his gaze. “I can see you want to go lay into your sister and maybe even your mother, but I’m telling you now, you need to leave it be.”

“Do you know what just happened?”

“Do you?” He raises a brow.

“Yeah, the woman I’ve come to care about just got fucked over by my family,” I tell him, and he laughs. “Glad you’re finding this shit funny.”

He sobers, then leans into the table, resting both his hands on the white tablecloth. “Look at your mother and your sister,” he orders, and I glance over to where they are now sitting and find them both wearing matching sour expressions on their faces. “Your girl just made a point that she’s not to be played with. They thought they had the upper hand by pulling that bullshit and with the Monopoly money comment.”

He shakes his head. “I doubt they know who May is and the kind of money she comes from.” He leans back in his seat, resting his hands on his belt buckle. “So you can go over there and lay into your mother and your sister for pulling that stunt, or you can sit your ass down and relish in the fact that they won’t do that shit again and that the only people who look bad right now is them.”

I study him for a long moment, then grit my teeth and take a seat, scrubbing my fingers through my hair.

“I know it might not feel like it, but you just made the right move.” He lifts his hand in the air, and a second later, a man steps up to the table, bowing at the waist. “Can we get two glasses of bourbon?”

“Of course, right away.” The man nods before backing up, then taking off toward the bar.

“Thanks,” I tell him, and he shakes his head at me.

“The drinks aren’t for us. They’re for her.” He dips his chin while looking over my shoulder, and I turn just in time to watch May walk toward us with her chin held high despite the people staring at her and how uncomfortable I’m sure she is. “I hope you know how lucky you are, son.”

“I know,” I assure him as I stand.

“I ordered you a drink, kid,” Herbert tells her when she reaches the table, and she smiles at him, then tips her head back to me when I wrap my hand around the back of her neck. Using my thumb under her chin, I tip her head back farther, then cover her mouth with mine and devour her right there, hoping everyone in the room is watching me stake my claim on this beautiful woman, who I do not fucking deserve but vow to try to.





Chapter 14


May

COVERING MY POUNDING head with my hand, I squeeze my eyes closed and curse Herbert for supplying me with bourbon and my inability to say no to him. Something I knew I should have done after the first glass but didn’t, honestly because dealing with everything last night was a whole lot easier with alcohol in my system.

“How bad is it?” Aiden asks, and I swear it sounds like he’s speaking through a loudspeaker right into my ear, causing my brain to rattle inside my skull.

“Don’t talk,” I whisper, then pull the pillow out from under my head and cover my face with it. “Just let me die in peace.”

“I’ll get you some Tylenol and a Gatorade,” he replies softly, and I feel the bed move. Rolling to my side, I hold my breath until the nausea passes, then let it out slow. “All right, doll, sit up,” he says what has to be a few minutes later but feels like seconds, and I carefully remove the pillow and get up on an elbow, watching him kneel on the bed in front of me.

If I weren’t feeling like death, I would take a moment to really appreciate the sight of him in nothing but a pair of boxers, but feeling like I do, I can barely stand to keep my eyes open in the dim light coming through the edge of my bedroom curtains.

“Thank you.” I take a piece of toast from him and wash it down with some Gatorade, then wait for a minute to make sure I won’t be sick before I swallow the two Tylenol he gives me.

“Hopefully that’ll help.”

“Hopefully.” I lie down and use my inner elbow to cover my eyes.

“Are you ready to talk about last night?” His hand rests on my stomach, and my nose scrunches in disgust just thinking about last night.