His eyes meet mine after scanning my face. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
I predicted this, especially after what just happened. But it’s over now. Reese has nothing to be worried about.
I wrap my arms around him and tilt my head up, pressing my chin against his chest. “I tell you what. I’ll text you as soon as I get home, and then every fifteen minutes until I fall asleep.”
“Every five minutes,” he counters, pressing his lips to my forehead. His arms envelop me and hold me against him.
I’m about to argue but let it go and agree to it. “Okay. Every five minutes. How is your hand?”
“Fine.”
“Let me see it.”
“It’s fine, Dylan.”
“Reese.”
He sighs heavily and lets go of me, holding up his right hand for me to examine.
“Fine, my ass. See how banged-up it looks?” I run my fingers over his fourth and fifth knuckle where most of the damage seems to be. The skin is cut up and a bit swollen, and he flinches at my touch. “You might need an x-ray, Reese. It could be broken.”
He flexes it several times before grabbing my hip with his other hand and pulling me against his chest. “It’s not broken. I’ll ice it when I get to Ian’s.”
As if he hears his name, Ian comes up to us and slaps Reese on the back. “Come on, man. She’ll be all yours tomorrow.”
Reese looks at him and then back down at me. He tilts my chin up. “Every five minutes.”
I press my lips against his. “You got it.”
Juls and Joey flank my side and we watch our men walk toward their vehicles. They both grab one of my hands.
“You ready for your last sleepover as a single woman?” Juls asks.
I smile at Reese as he looks back at me one last time before getting into his car.
Yup. Absolutely. “I’m so fucking ready.”
When we get back to the bakery, Juls and I help Joey carry the dresses inside and up the stairs to my practically empty loft. After changing into our pajamas, I hang my dress up and unzip the bag, smiling as the white lace slowly comes into view. I run my hand over the material while Juls and Joey laugh on the bed behind me.
“It’s been five minutes, cupcake,” Joey reminds me.
I zip up the bag and grab my phone before falling back onto the bed between the two of them.
“Thank God all this shit with Bryce is over,” Juls says as I type my message to Reese. “I can’t believe Ian didn’t tell me the real reason for working with him.”
I press send and look over at her. “They couldn’t. You know Ian wouldn’t keep anything from you unless he absolutely had to.”
“Fo’ reals. I’m sure he’d tell you the nuclear codes if he had them,” Joey jokes. “I’m actually surprised he didn’t spill it. That man likes to gossip more than me.”
Juls reaches over me and slaps his arm. “No one likes to gossip more than you.”
My phone beeps as I laugh at the two of them. I hold it above my head and quickly scan Reese’s message.
Reese: I told you. My hand is fine.
“So, are you ready to move out of here permanently, sweets?” Juls asks.
I look down my body and around the empty space surrounding my bed, tucking my hands behind my head after placing my phone on my chest. All the sadness I felt just last week at the very thought of moving is absent. The boxes stacked against the wall and on the kitchen counter no longer depress me. This is my last night in my loft, and although I once never imagined leaving it, I can no longer picture myself living here. The majority of the memories I have of this space are missing one vital element. And I want all my memories to include him.
I look over at her and smile. “What’s your favorite memory of being here?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. We’ve had so many good ones,” she replies, grabbing the pillows and handing them out to us. She takes one for herself and places it under her head. “You?”