He pinches my side and I yelp, prompting him to pull me closer so our bodies are touching. Constant contact. “I knew you’d say yes. You don’t have a wedding to bake for this weekend, so you’re all mine.”
I smile wide. “Look at you knowing my schedule. Oooo! We can do our bachelor and bachelorette parties this weekend! In the Big Easy!” I kick the covers off and scramble out of bed, setting my half-eaten bowl of spaghetti on my nightstand.
“Where are you going?”
“To call Joey! He’s going to freak out!”
I hear his faint laugh as I grab my phone from my clutch and dial Joey’s number. Returning to the bedroom, Joey answers as Reese pulls me back into bed.
“If you’re calling to tell me Reese’s mother is in charge of making my penis cake, I’m hanging up.”
I giggle and settle back down on my side, staring at a very sleepy-looking Reese. He’s been working long hours lately, plus some weekends, leaving him exhausted most nights by the time I get to him. Especially if he decides I need a good dicking as soon as he sees me, which is what usually happens. He lets his eyes fall closed, keeping his one arm wrapped around my waist.
“What would you say to a weekend in New Orleans with your two best friends and our men?”
“I’d say count me the fuck in. When?”
“This weekend. It’s perfect. We don’t have any weddings to bake for, and Reese and Ian have to go anyway. Plus—” I pause for dramatic effect, prompting Joey to give me an impatient grunt, “—we can go all-out for my bachelorette party, Mardi Gras-style.”
“Oh, fuck yes! Do you know how many gay bars they have there? Oooo, cupcake, I’m busting. This is going to be fantastic.”
I listen to my easily-excitable best friend and smile at the man I love who has completely passed out next to me. Reese’s breathing is slow and steady in my ear as I press my forehead against his, feeling the dampness of his hair against my skin.
“Billy’s in, too, right?”
“Of course. As soon as he heard me say ‘gay bar’ he was in. Do I need to do anything besides buy our plane tickets?”
“Nope. The place we’re staying at has already been booked. Oooo, maybe it’s in the French Quarter.”
“Babe, I want a window seat. A window.” I hear Billy’s muffled response in the background, prompting Joey to let out a cross grumble. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Cupcake, I gotta go handle this. You better book your flight now if you want a decent seat.”
I roll over and sit up, grabbing Reese’s iPad off the nightstand. “Yeah, I’m on it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Just as I hang up from Joey, my phone beeps with an incoming text message.
Juls: NEW ORLEANS, SWEETS! Booking my flight now. There’s just the one leaving late afternoon on Friday, so you’ll have to close up early. Hope that’s doable.
Me: Totally doable. I’m so excited!
Juls: Me, too! I may have mentioned it to Brooke.
I slam my head back against the headboard. Seriously? Has she gone completely mental?
Me: You are out of your fucking mind.
Juls: It’ll be fun. And don’t worry about JoJo. I’ll handle him.
Me: Good. Cause I’m not.
I place my phone down and power on the iPad, letting go of that stress and grinning at the image that appears on the screen. It’s still the one of me, passed out after my first-ever sleepover in this bed.
I can’t believe I ever fought it.
Him.
Sleepovers.
Him.
Intimacy.
HIM.
Even though I acted like a complete idiot and tried to ignore every screaming thought in my head that said what we were doing was more than I was prepared to admit, I wouldn’t take it back. I will never regret the way I fell in love with Reese; I can’t. Every single second of it was worth it because it led us to this. And I’d go through eighty-five more days of complete torture to have him next to me, because he’s always been mine. And in ten more days, I’ll officially be his.