“Stress does weird things to the best people. Look at Dr. Rosenberg.”
I pushed up on my elbow, looking down at her. Her cheeks were wet. “I used to want to be like him, but that was only because of the way you looked at him. I don’t wanna be anything like him, Avery. I’m going to cherish every second I have with you, and our kids, and our grandkids. We’re going to grow old together, and I’ll look back on all of this and know I honored what we had.”
She reached up to touch my cheek, still unsure. “Tell me I’m imagining things. Tell me Michaels is imagining things.”
I sighed. “I can’t. I did go to the bar. I was talking to a girl. I couldn’t tell you if she was blonde or not; I wasn’t paying that close attention. But we were just talking. I did tell you I was driving home from work instead of the bar. I do talk to people on the phone late at night. But I only want you. Please trust me.”
Avery’s bottom lip quivered, and then she pulled me down to her, locking her wrists around my neck. I dug my hands between her and the mattress, holding her as if she were anchoring me to the earth.
The morning sun poured in through the windows, filling the room with light. Avery groaned. She’d covered for Deb the night before and had just trudged in at three a.m.
I stood, closing the curtains.
“It’s no use,” she said. “I’m awake.”
I rushed back to lie beside her under the covers. “Try to go back to sleep. You must be exhausted.”
“I can’t. There are only ten days left of May.”
I squeezed her tight. “Then it’s June.”
She looked up at me with weary eyes and a sleepy smile. “Then it’s June.”
“Still nervous?”
“I just hope no one is disappointed. It’s just a tiny wedding, no reception.”
“Hey,” I said. “I suggested pizza.”
She tilted her head, tucking her chin. “I’d rather not feed anyone than offer pizza for a wedding dinner.”
I shrugged and smiled. “They are just going to be happy to be there, Avery. They want to share this day with us.”
“I just don’t want it to suck.”
“You really think our friends and family are going to judge us based on if we feed them shrimp cocktails and have an ice sculpture?”
“No, but someone might.”
“Who are these fictional assholes that you speak of and why would we invite them to our wedding?”
Her giggles filled the bedroom, and she finally relaxed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can’t figure out what this thing is hanging over my head, so I’m making stuff up.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know,” she said, twirling her hair around her finger and looking out the window. “That thing.”
I wondered if she meant the same uncertain feeling that had been plaguing me. Clearly, neither of us was unsure about our relationship. It was something else, and she was feeling it too.
“How are you?” I asked, brushing her hair back from her face.
She smiled, amused. “I’m fine.”
“You know what I mean,” I said, nudging her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like the luckiest girl on Earth.” She grinned against my lips as she slipped her hands around the back of my neck and pulled me closer. Moving the blanket from between us, I slid my body over hers, still wanting her just as badly as the first night we’d made love. Settling my hips on hers, her thighs fell open wider, granting me access.
Reaching between us, she gripped my length, positioning me at her entrance, skin to skin. I glanced over my shoulder at the nightstand, but Avery pulled me down, planting a deep kiss on my mouth. “I want to feel you.” She bit her lip. “Just you.”
Lifting my head to look her in the eye, she nodded before I pushed forward, filling her slowly as she gasped at the new sensation. Her eyes fluttered closed, and I pressed my lips to each eyelid as we began to move together, her nails biting into the flesh of my back.