Chapter 42
Sebastian
“HILLS APPROVES,” NATHAN said, his voice crackling through the car speakers, accompanied by noises from whatever game he was testing. “Said you’re everything I told her and more.”
I scoffed. “What’s the ‘more’?” I knew Nathan—his definitions of “more” could go in dangerous directions.
“No idea. I decided not to ask. But her friends gushed about you. Especially Alison.”
Thank goodness it wasn’t Ruby—their Ruby—or I might’ve started believing the universe had a dark sense of humor.
“I’m sure they’re great and all, but I told you—”
“Yeah, I know. Too soon,” he cut in.
“Not just too soon, Nath.”
“I get it, buddy. It stings.”
“Like a motherfucker.” My jaw tightened. I glanced out my side window at the cars sitting in traffic next to mine.
“You did your best. You can’t make someone—”
“I know, Nath. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s her loss,” he said anyway. It was the kind of thing people said when they didn’t know the other person—or how big your loss was.
Ruby, despite the years of keeping it casual, was my soulmate.
I felt it—that deep, bone-level connection neither of us had ever managed to have with anyone else.
Neither of us had even looked for nor were interested in having it with anyone else.
Because without even realizing it—we already had it with each other.
“Yeah, totally her loss,” he repeated.
“Nath.” He meant well, but I didn’t need the pep talk. I just needed the woman I loved, the only one who could quiet my head and ignite my body with a single look, the only one who made everything sharper and easier at the same time.
“We’ll be here. Me, Hilly, the women of Houston.” He chuckled at his own joke, and I let myself laugh too.
A few days later, a message from Dave pinged on my phone—three pictures of the inn. One of the finished roof, one of the upstairs walls now closed in, and a close-up of the corner that had needed the most work. His note read: “Hey, Superman. Take a look at that. Paint is next and we’re done.”