“That, you glorious dumb jock” she says, kissing my neck with each word, “could take all day.”
“Since there’s no place to go …”
“Actually, the correct lyric is ‘we’ve—’” she starts, but I kiss the words and the laugh from her mouth, grateful we have all the time in the world together.
Because I want every second.
Curious what happened when Nate and Juliet got trapped in an elevator together? Read all about it in Single All the Way!
And read on for a BONUS EPILOGUE featuring Kayla Carville.
BONUS EPILOGUE
KAYLA
Ihate my engagement ring.
Am I allowed to say that?
I’m with my fiancé at a wedding for an old college friend, and instead of us staring at each other with moony eyes on the dance floor, he’s staring at me—I canfeelhis eyes—while I stare at my very shiny, very gaudy ring.
The bride’s ring isstunning. It’s a five carat round brilliant cut, pure, simple, and unadorned. The ring speaks for itself, bold but not overbearing, confident yet not cocky.
It will age as beautifully as their love for each other.
“What are you thinking about, Beautiful?” Aldridge asks me. He tucks my auburn hair behind my ear, and I’m reminded forcibly of a gnat I want to swat at.
What is wrong with me?
I tear my eyes from my ring and smile at my fiancé’s handsome face. “This will be us soon,” I say.
“I can’t wait,” he says, putting his arm around me as he watches Nate and Juliet dance. After six years together, I’ve memorized his every micro-expression. Unlike a favorite book, though, I’m tired of reading these expressions. The boredom in his eyes, the judgment in his lips.
That’s not boredom, I chide myself.That’s contentment. You know the difference.
His boredom comes with a sneer, and he’s not sneering. He’ssmiling.
And that’s even worse.
Aldridge loves me. He loves me so much, I’m suffocating on his attention. The more he dotes, the more I feel myself pushing away. He’s the exact same man he’s always been, though, so these feelings aren’t an indictment on him but on me.
I want an excuse. I want an out.
No! I’m being absurd.
After six years, never has he given me reason to doubt his commitment. We’re getting married in less than a month!
This is simply cold feet.
Even if said feet are sweating in these heels.
“Hey, cuz,” a low Southern voice says. I look up and smile at my hulking cousin, Tripp. “Mind if I steal her, Aldridge?”
Tripp and Aldridge shake hands, and Aldridge goes the extra step of patting Tripp’s hand with his free one. “What are you two going to talk about?” Aldridge asks.
I smile at my fiancé, hoping it hides the irritation making my cheeks quiver. “Nothing exciting, sweetheart,” I say. “Unless you care about agricultural distribution as much as we do.”
“Can’t say that I do,” Aldridge says, but the uncertainty in his brow makes him look like a little kid worried everyone is having fun but him. Except to Aldridge, “everyone” is a party of one:
