Chapter 9
NINE
Willow
My mind has been a see-saw of emotion. Should I let Brock sleep in the bed? Or not? Honestly, I know I’m going to let him sleep next to me. I can’t very well enjoy watching him in pain day in and day out. It’s not very nice of me.
After dinner tonight, we both made our way to our room, and when he slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed, I laid on the couch. I don’t know how he’s been sleeping on that rock. Because that’s exactly what it feels like—a lump of rocks. Poor guy.
Feeling bad instantly, I head to the bed, moving a few pillows along my side so he can have enough room to sleep. It’s a pretty big bed. I guess I shouldn’t have hogged the thing all to myself anyway. Brock exits the bathroom, and our eyes meet.
“You can sleep in the bed,” I tell him, feeling so sorry for him. “I’m sorry you’ve been in pain.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
For the first time in years, I don’t want to wring Brock’s neck. Instead, I want to wrap my arms around it, maybe kiss his plush, soft lips. I shake my head, trying my best to get these inappropriate thoughts out of my head.
“Lake looked pissed. You have to admit that.” Brock lifts the comforter and slides into bed.
I slowly climb into bed, trying my best to keep myself away from Brock’s side. I feel weird for some reason. Like there’s something happening to my body. And I know Brock’s not feeling any of it. Just me.
Has it really been that long since I’ve been this close to a man that my body is reacting to it? I need to calm all my girly parts and breathe.
“You okay?” Brock asks me as I lay as still as a statue next to him in the bed.
I nod. “I’m fine. And yes, Lake looked really upset.” I turn to face Brock. “Thank you, seriously. I’m glad we’re doing this,” I tell him.
“Even if we don’t get along?” His voice is deep and vibrates through my bones.
“Why don’t we get along?” I ask, seriously wondering.
Brock’s dark eyes widen as he stares at me. “I’m not really sure.”
“Me either,” I breathe out.
We lay in silence, staring at each other, studying one another.
His eyes, dark and intense, seem to search mine for answers neither of us have.
The dim light casts shadows on his face, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips.
I can see the softness in his expression, a vulnerability that I haven't noticed before. It makes my heart ache a little.
Finally, I roll over to hit the light on the bedside table, my hand trembling slightly as I do.
The room plunges into darkness, but the sense of intimacy remains, amplified by the absence of light.
I resume my position, facing Brock. I can barely make out his face in the dark, but soon my eyes adjust with the help of the faint light of the moon coming through the window.
The moonlight spills across the bed, illuminating his features just enough for me to see him.
His eyes are still open, watching me, and there's a softness there that makes me feel safe and unnerved all at once.
The shadows play tricks with the contours of his face, making him look almost ethereal.
I notice the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic sound soothing yet strangely exciting.
"Are you comfortable?" he whispers, his voice barely audible but rich with concern.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. The air between us feels charged, like something significant is about to happen. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and I want to move closer to him.
As I lie there, I become acutely aware of every movement, every tiny shift in the bed. His breathing is steady, a calming rhythm that starts to sync with my own. I can feel the heat of his skin just inches away, and it's both comforting and electrifying.
I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding in the silence. I wonder if he's as affected by this moment as I am. There's a part of me that wants to reach out, to touch him, to feel the solid reality of him beside me. But I hold back, unsure of how he would react, unsure of what it would mean for us.
I close my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but my mind races with thoughts of Brock and the unexpected emotions swirling inside me.
In the silence, I realize that maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new. Something unexpected. Something that could change everything.
“I can’t believe this is happening?” Hartford cries. Tears stream down her face, and I pull her long hair back. “I just can’t believe this.”
“It’ll be okay,” I tell her. “We’ll fix it.”
Anya gives me a look like we won’t be able to fix a mess this bad, but I’m determined to make Hartford’s wedding perfect for her.
The wedding cake that Hartford had ordered for the wedding months ago never came through. Apparently the shop had to close this week, their refrigerators broke, and they had to cancel all of their orders.
Now, we’ve got a cake-less wedding. And Hartford’s not happy.
Obviously.
“I’m sure there’s other cake shops in Las Vegas.” Anya takes a quick sip of her coffee.
“Definitely. We’ll start calling,” Felicity offers, checking on August in his baby carrier.
We’re sitting in a small cafe shop, trying our best to come up with a possible way we can get a cake made, decorated, and delivered for the day of the wedding.
“We only have three days until the big event. This is a nightmare,” Hartford says again, crying into her two hands.
“No, it won’t be. We’ll make calls all day. We’ll split up into teams, and we’ll make sure we’ve got everything we need for this wedding. Brock and I can check out some cake shops all through Vegas.”
Hartford gives me a small smile. “Okay.”
Anya blots at Hartford’s face with a tissue. “My mother and I will make sure there’s no issues with your dress, the bridesmaid dresses, and the tuxedos.”
“All right,” Hartford says through her tears. She opens her eyes and glances around the table. “I love you ladies.” She wipes away her tears. “Just think one day we’ll all be sisters.”
My eyes widen. “Well, maybe.” I hate that I won’t be able to be sisters with these ladies, but I’m not technically dating an Atwood.
My mind rushes back to last night in bed with Brock. How in the morning I woke up to his arm draped over me. How I had to crawl out of the bed, trying my best not to wake him. How I didn’t want to get up.
How I’d rather have laid there all day with his arm wrapped around me.
What is wrong with me?
I pull out my phone and text Brock.
Me: Meet me at Java Beans Coffee Shop.
Brock: On my way.
Me: Thank you.
I text him back quickly.
“I just asked Brock to meet me here. We’re going to find you a cake today. Or die trying,” I say, eliciting a smile from Hartford.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes already looking better. Dryer.
“Griffin, Callum, and Shepherd are going to make sure the venue is all set up. We just want to double check all the small details,” Anya says with a big smile. “We don’t want another hitch in the plans.”
“Right the only hitch is Hartford and Paxton getting hitched,” Felicity says, then frowns. “Okay, yes that was really corny.”
We all laugh, and get into girl mode. We’re going to make sure Hartford and Paxton have the best wedding imaginable.