Page 59 of Leave Before I Love You

Greer’s main squeeze, a guy I’ve met only a time or two, Trent Turner, grins at her adoringly. I snort under my breath. Obviously, he’s painfully in love.

Cap laughs, this time innocently, as far as I can tell, but Emory snaps. “Don’t even start, Cap.” One more wrong move by my buddy and I might have to find a new lawyer.

“I didn’t say a word,” he says defensively, raising both hands in a show of submission. I bite my lip to stop a laugh from escaping, but the pleasure I get out of the exchange must be evident on my face because both Emory and Cap glare.

It’s safe to say my favorite cousin is a little quick on the draw this afternoon, but all things considered, it’s understandable. The woman just had a baby. In my book, that’s the ultimate free pass.

It isn’t long before the conversation switches back to the baby, and I take the opportunity to get back in Emory’s good graces. Hudson is still in a doting Quince’s arms, but I address Emory directly. “Can I hold her?”

Emory nods at Quincy, and I jog over into the corner to put some sanitizer on my hands. Quincy is waiting when I get back and doesn’t hesitate to make the transfer as I hold out my arms.

Hudson sighs the sweetest little baby sigh as I arrange her in my arms and pull the tiny warmth of her body into my chest.

God. How can something so tiny make my heart feel so big?

Like it’s programmed to do it, my body develops a small bounce and sway as I stare down at her gorgeous face.

There’s a whole story—a whole goddamn world of events—that led up to the creation of this perfect human being, and the cosmic power of it all makes my chest squeeze.

I glance up at Emory and Quince and then back down at the baby. This moment feels so acutely destined.

I’ve never focused on fate. Hell, I’ve never even focused on love.

But ten minutes of holding the result of human connection has me wondering what the world could have in store for me.

Hudson gets a little fussy, waking from her slumber and turning her lips down in disquiet. Quincy jumps to take her back, and Greer informs us it’s time for everyone to exit the room. “Okay, it’s time for you bastards to get out of here. Emory needs to get her tits out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Emory mutters. “Stop saying that, G.”

“Fine. Emory has to get her boobs out.”

Emory rolls her eyes. “I have to breastfeed.”

I grin and step forward to give Em a kiss on the forehead. “Congratulations, cuz. I’m so happy for you.”

She smiles. “Thanks, Milo.”

With my congratulations officially given, Cap and I are the first ones to leave the room and head down the hall, back out the special doors, and over toward the elevators.

“Where are you headed now?” he asks.

“Back to work.”

He groans and taps the down button for the elevator. “That’s fucking boring.”

I laugh as the elevator arrives, and we step on.

“Is Evan really getting married?” he asks, and something about the tone he uses makes me tilt my head and meet his eyes as the doors close shut.

“Yeah.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

I search his eyes. “I mean, he’s been engaged for nearly a year. Seems like the natural next step.”

“First, Quince. Now, Evan and Trent.” Cap sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Goddamn everyone’s dropping like flies.”

I laugh at that. “Well, if that isn’t the worst way I’ve ever heard anyone describe marriage…”

“You know it’s true, dude. Marriage. Babies. Shit is going down within our friend circle.”

“Aw,” I tease. “You feeling left out, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Cap retorts on a chuckle. The hall from the elevator to the lobby is surprisingly empty, and in a weird way, it makes his words seem even more dramatic, like I’ve found myself a party to an after-school special. “I’m terrified… for them .”

“ Oh …” I pause, and a smirk makes itself known on my lips. “So, you’re just scared for them. Not scared in general? Or projecting your commitment fears on to them? Of course, that makes total sense.”

“You bet your ass, it does,” he says without a second thought. “I don’t have any fears of commitment. I just prefer not to commit.”

“So, this is more of an altruistic kind of concern you’re harboring, then.”

He nods. “Exactly.”

“If that isn’t a good friend, I don’t know what is,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“You know, I almost forgot how much of a fucking smartass you are.”

Truthfully, I’m just getting warmed up. His remarks have given me so much ammunition. But luckily for him, my phone pings three times in quick succession from inside my jacket pocket before I can give him any more shit. I pull it out to check the screen.

Maybe: Great day, dear gentleman.

Maybe: Are you there, good sir?

Maybe: I appropriate your time and constipation in this matter.

What in the ever-loving hell is happening right now?

Why is Maybe texting me? Did Evan give her my number too?

And what the hell is she talking about?

Before I can even try to decode the messages, another one comes through.

Maybe: I may be but a mere innocent maiden, but I have desires that flow deeper than deep. I want to jump in your pool water and float on your big noodle raft.

And another.

Maybe: I have a delicate, desiring request to ask of you, good gentle sir.

And then, she drops a fucking bomb.

Maybe: Deflower me, please?

“What the hell?” I question out loud before I can stop myself. Cap’s overly curious gaze moves to my phone.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, but I shake my head at the same time. I stare at the screen, trying to make sense of it, but impressive article in Forbes and billion-dollar company or not, I’m coming up blank.

Cap’s curiosity only grows the longer I stare, though, and he moves strategically to try to get a glance. I bend it like fucking Beckham to ensure that doesn’t happen.

“What the fuck, dude?” he questions in near outrage. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

He grins. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Trust me. It’s nothing.”

Nothing I can make sense of and absolutely nothing I’m going to share with Caplin Hawkins.

He holds out his hand. “Let me see.”

“Fuck no.” I lock the screen of my phone and slip it back into my pocket. I may not know what’s going on, but now, while I’m so closely located near the billionaire equivalent of a peeping tom, is not the time to try to figure it out.

“Someone sending you titty pics?” he asks with a grin, and the sheer thought of Evan’s little sister sending me pictures of her breasts has me choking on my own saliva.

“Don’t be a fucking dick.”

“What?” he asks and raises both of his hands in the air like he’s the most innocent, well-mannered man who’s ever lived. “It’s a valid question.”

In Caplin Hawkins’s world, it is.

And, hell, maybe a few years ago, it would’ve been a valid question for me too.

But not now. And not Evan’s little sister .

Good God.

When I get out of the hospital, away from Cap’s prying eyes, and inside the privacy of Sam’s Escalade, I pull out my phone and reread her messages. Instantly, an absurd laugh escapes my lungs when I read the last one.

Deflower me, please?

Maybe Willis is a virgin?

No. I shake my head. Surely, this is just some sort of fun prank…right?

But the simple idea of Maybe, Evan’s little sister, sending out these kinds of text messages, no matter the reason, to random bastards in this city makes my gut churn with discomfort.

I guess it’s a good thing Evan asked me to reach out to her…

I’ll be contacting her sooner rather than later, that’s for damn sure.

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