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“Did she tell you how she was feeling?”
“Also yes.”
I cocked an eyebrow. She shook her head, saying she wouldn’t tell me.
I ran my hand down my face in irritation. “I like to know what to expect.”
“You can’t always know how things will turn out ahead of time, Damian. Sometimes you just have to trust the process.”
“I’ve got trust issues.”
She smiled that nice grin that Aaliyah always had. “You’re nervous. Don’t worry, she is, too.”
“I’m not nervous,” I quipped. “Really, though. What did she say to you?”
“Oh, you know, this and that. Girl talk.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
Aaliyah placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. I hated being touched, but for her, I’d allow it. She could probably get away with anything over these next few months while she was pregnant.
“I’m definitely not going to tell you.”
I grimaced.
She squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t frown, Damy. You’re getting married tomorrow.”
Damy.
I really wanted to tell her to never call me that again, but she said since we were pretty much family, we needed nicknames. She came up with Damy, and I hated every single thing about it.
She walked off as Connor stood beside me, cheesing harder than ever before.
“Are you sure I can’t call you Damy like she does?” he questioned.
“If you do, I’ll punch you in your ballsack.”
He cringed and placed his hands over his junk. “Noted.”
“Do me a favor?” I asked.
He cocked an eyebrow. “You never ask for favors.”
“Yeah, well, today I need one.”
“What’s up?”
“Try to get Aaliyah to tell you what Stella said.”
“Wow.” Connor blew out a low breath of hot air. “Aaliyah’s right. You are nervous.”
“I’m not fucking nervous!” I growled. Yeah, that’s right. I growled like a damn beast. Living up to Stella’s nickname for me.
Okay, fine. I was nervous. Could you blame me? I hardly even dated women for longer than twenty-four hours, and even that was a stretch. Now, after knowing about a woman’s existence for only a week and probably spending less than a full-blown hour with her, I was meeting her at the end of an aisle to say, “I do.”
I felt as if I were going to shit my pants with the amount of anxiety shooting through my veins. I wasn’t even a nervous guy. Most of the time, I didn’t care enough to feel anything.
I lowered my head and clasped my hands together. “How do I not fuck this up?”
