Page 52 of Stuck With the Best Man

“That’s fantastic,” I say. “So, you won’t be missing anything.”

Ruby sighs. “Yeah. I guess.”

Silence follows. I stare up at the dark ceiling. The windowpanes cry out for mercy against the force of the gale. The glow of Ruby’s phone fades away, and I hear the sheets rustle as she turns over.

I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come. I should be exhausted after the day we’ve had. It’s not that the cot is uncomfortable—I’m not as fussy as Ruby would probably think. It’s just that my mind is too crowded with thoughts of her to focus on something like sleep. As if my brain is thinking,Why be unconscious and clueless when you can stay conscious and know that she is right here beside you?

A few minutes later, there’s a frustrated sigh from the bed. More rustling as she turns over. I remain quiet.

Then, again, less than a minute after the first sigh, a second one comes. I hear her punch the pillow as if to make it more comfortable.

More silence.

Just when I think she might have finally been able to fall asleep, she starts tossing and turning again.

I clear my throat softly. “Are you okay?”

She sighs again. “Sorry. I know I should feel tired, but my brain won’t shut up.”

“Same.”

“This sucks.”

I nod against my pillow, realizing too late that she can’t see me. “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

She snorts loudly. “No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

A momentary pause. Then, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Maybe I say it too quickly. Maybe I’m too eager to spill the entire contents of my heart for this girl.

“What’s the deal with your family?”

My chest tightens. I wasn’t expecting that.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Sorry if that’s nosy of me. I know you said you have three older siblings and that your father isn’t exactly a sweetheart… I mean, families aren’t perfect. But, to me, the Hawthorne family always represented this amazing ideal. Rich and philanthropic and cultured. I guess I was surprised when you told me you don’t exactly fit in.”

“Oh.”

“Not that it’s any of my business,” she quickly adds.

“No, it’s okay,” I reply. I mean it. Clearly, I’ll do just about anything for Ruby. After all, I volunteered to drive her back to the city knowing exactly how much she despised me. Of course, I just wanted the chance to prove her wrong.

Now, it feels different. I know she doesn’t hate me and I should be satisfied with that. I can move on with my life.

I don’t want to move on, though. I want to tell her everything about myself. And I want her to tell me everything about herself.

I want her. It’s more than physical attraction. She’s always been beautiful. I always knew that. It’s obvious. Anyone can look at Ruby and agree that she’s maddeningly gorgeous.

Now that I know her better—and now that I know I already started falling for her once before—I think I might be at risk of drowning in this sensation.

There has to be a way that we can be together.

Not that she wants to be together, I remind myself.

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