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29. Victorious
Jules
“Garen isn’t so bad,” Cash says as we leave the club.
I shoot him a glance. “As opposed to…?”
“To my first impression of the guy when I saw him hanging all over you weeks ago.”
“You were jealous?”
“Fuck yes. I hadn’t even kissed you yet, and I had to watch this wannabe rocker put his hands on you.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a wannabe.”
“Okay,” he concedes. “Maybe he’s not a wannabe. Like I said, he’s not so bad.”
Probably because Garen was drunk off his ass for most of the party and spent the night flirting with Les, much to Zan and Leo’s irritation.
“So you enjoyed the party?” I ask him, sending out feelers for how he faired after a night spent with the people who mean everything to me. I’ve been part of his life for months now, having met his family and spending my days by his side at MontBlake. It was a nice change of pace to witness Cash in the middle of my world.
“I did. What about you, compromising positions aside?”
If I never have to relive the moment I found Kaden staring at me while Cash pounded me from behind, it’ll be too soon. “It wasn’t bad for a party.”
He laughs. “I didn’t realize you were such a hard sell.”
“I’m kidding, Cash. It was seriously the best birthday ever.”
“It’s not over yet.”
I eye him. “You got something up your sleeve?”
“Absolutely. I haven’t given you your birthday gift yet.”
“I’m too curious to say no to that.”
The air is crisp but the skies are clear. Cash pulls the collar of my jacket close around my ears, ensuring I stay warm in the soft breeze.
“Feel up for a walk?” he asks.
“Probably a good idea.” I glance down at the jacket covering my flat belly, which won’t be so flat in a couple of months. “Considering all the cake I just inhaled.”
He takes my hand. “You’re pregnant, Jules. In my book that means you’re allowed to indulge every once in a while.” He tugs on my arm until I’m facing him and slides a palm along my cheek, fingers tangling in my hair. He lowers his mouth to mine in a brief kiss that leaves me aching for more. “I can’t wait to see your belly growing with my child.”
“You’ll get your wish soon enough.”
He entwines our fingers, and we take off down the sidewalk toward the waterfront, and it isn’t long before I realize where we’re headed. The Great Wheel stands in the night, rising up in a circle of blue neon glory.
“You did say I needed to see the view at night.” I gesture at the ride.
He smiles. “You remember.”
“Of course I do.” Does he not realize that every moment we’ve spent together is tattooed on my brain?
He ushers me past the ticket booth, and I note the lack of a line. Or a lack of people in general. The pier is deserted, save for a few employees. For a Friday night, even in the briskness of fall, I’d expect to find at least a few people loitering about.
“Are you sure it’s open?”
