CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lennon
The wine tastes better tonight, or maybe it’s just the company. Nikki and Jeanette sit sprawled on my sectional, Nikki with a glass of red in hand and Jeanette nursing a cranberry juice like it’s the cocktail of the century.
“You’re glowing,” Nikki says, narrowing her eyes at me over her wineglass. “And not in the way you glow when you’ve got dirt on someone. This is… different. Suspiciously wholesome.”
Jeanette snorts. “It’s because she’s in loooove. Look at her. All dreamy-eyed and soft. Disgusting.”
“I am not dreamy-eyed,” I say, waving my glass at them. “This is my normal face.”
“Your normal face used to be a permanent smirk,” Jeanette points out, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table. Her pregnant belly makes the motion look awkward, but she manages it with the determination of a woman who refuses to let her state of being slow her down. “Now you look… wistful. It’s weird. Stop it.”
“I don’t look wistful,” I argue, though a smile sneaks its way onto my face. Damn it. I can’t help it. Just thinking about Ruben makes my cheeks warm and my heart flutter like some kind of Disney princess.
Nikki’s eyebrows shoot up. “There it is. The Ruben Glow.”
“The Ruben Glow is not a thing,” I declare, but they’re already cackling.
“Oh, it’s a thing,” Nikki says. “And it’s gross. Who knew Ruben Posada, terrifying attorney extraordinaire, would turn you into a Hallmark character? Or better said, into a story where Hallmark meets PornHub.”
I can’t help but chuckle, because you never know what would come out of Nikki’s mouth. Jeanette clinks her juice glass against Nikki’s wineglass. “To Lennon: queen of snark, vanquisher of shady exes, and now, giggling Ruben groupie.”
“I don’t giggle,” I say, crossing my arms. “And can we not talk about me like I’m some lovesick teenager? We have bigger things to discuss.”
“Like your wedding?” Jeanette grins. “Or my baby shower? I’m just saying, both events will have cake, but one of them involves a lifetime commitment to a ridiculously handsome man.”
“I’m leaning toward the baby shower,” Nikki says. “Less pressure. Fewer tears. Probably more fun games.”
“And diapers,” Jeanette adds. “Which I will be happy to accept. But seriously, Lennon, you’ve got the whole fairy tale thing going on. A dreamy guy and that glow. If I weren’t so thrilled for you, I’d hate you.”
“I’m thrilled for me too,” I admit, grinning despite myself. “But also, let’s not forget who I am. The snark isn’t going anywhere. Ruben might be amazing, but he’s also incredibly annoying.”
“Annoying how?” Nikki asks, leaning forward like she’s ready for gossip.
“He’s so… capable,” I say, waving my hand in frustration. “Like, oh, your sink’s leaking? He’s already fixed it. Your car needs an oil change? Done. You mentioned craving churros at midnight? Boom, he’s got them.”
“And this is annoying because…?” Jeanette prompts.
“Because it makes me feel like a hot mess by comparison!” I throw my hands up. “I can barely remember to buy groceries, and here he is, solving problems I didn’t even know I had.”
“Sounds like a nightmare,” Nikki deadpans, and Jeanette bursts out laughing.
“Okay, fine,” I say, flopping back against the couch. “It’s not annoying. It’s… swoon-worthy. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” Nikki says, raising her glass in a mock toast.
“Same,” Jeanette adds, though her juice is long gone. “Speaking of swoon-worthy, are we still on for dress shopping next week? Because if I have to wear maternity formalwear, you’re all suffering with me.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say. “Just promise me we’re going somewhere with good lighting. I’m not having bad photos for this.”
“Deal,” Jeanette says, holding out a pinky, which I dutifully link with mine.
“I’m just saying,” Nikki declares, pointing her glass at me, “if this Ruben guy isn’t buying a ring already, then I’ll eat my shoe.”
I nearly choke on my wine. “A ring? Are you drunk already? It’s way too soon for that kind of talk.”
Jeanette snorts, her pregnant belly shaking as she laughs. “Oh, honey, please. You’ve basically moved in with him. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you’re only ever at your house for these little wine nights. How many pairs of your shoes are sitting in his closet right now?”
“Four,” I mumble into my glass. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”
Nikki’s eyebrows shoot up. “It means everything. This is just the beginning. You have half the closet… and then boom. You’re picking out wedding colors.”
“You’re skipping about fifty steps,” I argue, swirling my wine. “Besides, who says he’s even thinking about marriage?”
Jeanette leans forward, her cranberry juice sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her glass. “Girl, have you seen the way he looks at you? Ruben’s head over heels. He probably already has a Pinterest board for your wedding.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, come on. Ruben does not have a Pinterest board. He’s not that guy.”
Nikki smirks. “No, he’s the guy who’d hire someone to curate a Pinterest board for him. The man’s got taste, and you know it.”
“You’re all insane,” I say, shaking my head. “Ruben and I are… comfortable. We’re enjoying the moment. There’s no rush.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jeanette says, her tone dripping with skepticism. “That’s what I said about Adrian. Now look at me.” She gestures dramatically at her belly. “Getting rounder by the minute, swollen, and arguing with the baby about whether or not it’s okay to crave pickles at three in the morning.”
Nikki giggles. “She’s got a point, Lennon. When it’s right, it’s right. And you and Ruben? You’re on the fast track. I’ll bet you’re married before Jeanette even gets this baby out.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I groan. “You two don’t know what’s in Ruben’s head. Hell, I don’t know what’s in Ruben’s head half the time.”
Nikki leans back in her chair, looking entirely too smug. “We’re women. We know these things. And don’t act like you don’t already have a mental list of venues.”
“I do not,” I say, though my cheeks betray me by heating up. “And even if I did, it doesn’t matter. Marriage is a huge deal. It’s not something you just dive into because your friends have overactive imaginations.”
Jeanette raises her glass. “To overactive imaginations, then. Because I’m telling you, Lennon, it’s happening. Sooner than you think.”
“Cheers to that,” Nikki says, clinking her glass against Jeanette’s.
I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing despite myself. “You two are impossible.”
We spend the rest of the evening roasting each other and planning Jeanette’s baby shower, which, according to Nikki, is going to be “the most Instagrammable event this town has ever seen.” By the time they go to bed, my sides hurt from laughing, and my cheeks ache from smiling.
But as I crawl into bed later that night, the sheets are cool against my skin. They don’t have the warmth of Ruben’s arms, and the emptiness beside me is almost unbearable. I stare at the ceiling, missing him so much it’s a physical ache. I can’t help but think about what they said. Marriage. Ruben. A life together that’s more permanent than shared closets and toothbrushes.
I miss him, and it’s not just a casual thing. It’s a deep, aching sort of longing, the kind that makes you question how you ever slept alone before.
God, I’ve turned into one of those people. The kind who can’t sleep without their partner. Who sighs dramatically at the thought of their absence. Nikki and Jeanette would never let me live this down.
I’m just drifting off when a sound jolts me awake. My heart thuds in my chest as I sit up, straining to hear over the pounding in my ears. There’s a shadow by the window, a figure moving just enough to catch the faint moonlight.
What the hell? I sit up slowly, my pulse thundering in my ears. The shadows in the room feel heavier, oppressive. My phone is on the nightstand, and I reach for it, but before I can grab it, a silhouette moves at the foot of the bed.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper. Adrenaline surges through me, my mind racing.
Has my father sent someone to kill me?