Page 63 of Someday Not Soon

Delaney

Mhm, yeah. Whatever you say, girl.

Every morning, I watch the sunrise and my heart sinks. Another day has passed. Before I know it, reality will come crashing back in. I’m not ready for that.

Last night on the beach, we told each other that we’reall in. That means this isn’t over between us, even when I go back up north. It’s a promise that I plan to cling to as the days slip away.

I’m relieved to finally be closing this chapter of my life, almost free of my parents’ home. There’s still a thread of grief woven through me, but it’s not as overwhelming as it once was. The realization of the quickly passing mourning tugs at my guilt until I remember how many decades it’s been since they even pretended to care. Eitherthat, or I’ve slowly become an emotionless shell, numb to the pain that used to cut so deep.

Either way, moving on will be a relief, though I’ll probably need a truckload of therapy to fully get there.

“Any plans for the day?” Jude asks from beside me in bed, kissing my bare shoulder.

“Delaney, Madi, and I decided we’re going to check out a Pilates studio that’s about thirty minutes down the road. They’re having a fun little wine and exercise event.”

“Do you ever miss it? Teaching Pilates?”

“I do, a lot.” A whole fucking lot. When you’ve gone from making these close-knit relationships with clients, seeing the strength in everyone’s body and mind grow with every session—it’s difficult to transition into a monotonous gray cubicle where everyone is angry at you for enforcing the rules.

“I remember how much you used to dream about opening a studio of your own. Who knows, maybe it’ll be you someday.”

The mention of my own studio seems like some distant fantasy that’s too far away to reach out and grasp. Itiswhat I’ve always dreamed of—running my own Pilates studio, teaching classes, and being my own boss. But the fear of failure has always held me back. I don’t have the guts to take the plunge. I also don’t have an entrepreneurial bone in my body.

Shrugging, I spin around in his arms. “I still dream about that sometimes. But that’s all it is—a dream. It feels pretty unlikely for someone like me to make that come to fruition.”

His brow furrows. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not one of those go-getter types that sets out to make their dreams a reality. I’m more of a ‘why on earth would I attempt this when I can already see a thousand ways this could go wrong’ type. I’ve learned that sometimes it’s better to settle for being some other version of happy.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way though. You could do anything. And you have a ton of people, myself included, to support you.”

“I know my limits, and starting my own business isn’t within them.”

He tightens his hold on me, his eyes intense. “Sometimes the biggest dreams start with small steps. You’ve got more potential than you realize.”

My stomach flutters with a spark of confidence. Having him believe in me gives me a boost of faith. It’s not the way it should be. I should be self-assured and not need someone to hold my hand to cheer me on. But self-doubt was practically engraved into my brain growing up. There was never any praise for doing something right, only constant criticisms and more rules upon rules. Perhaps that’s why I went into human resources. Because rules feel familiar to me, they feel safe.

But if he believes in me—the perfectionist highly-skilled doctor that’s the best person I’ve ever known—then maybe it’s time I start believing in myself too.

As he gets ready for work, I can’t tear my eyes away from him in the bathroom mirror. His navy scrubs hug his biceps, emphasizing every cord of muscle, and thesight of him in his uniform does something to me. Seeing him in his element, preparing for a day of saving lives and doing something he wholeheartedly enjoys, slams me with the realization that I want to do the same.

Putting on his watch, he looks up at me and smiles. I smile back, my stomach fluttering with the way he looks at me. The man before me is in a category all of his own.

Leaning down to bury his nose into my neck, he mumbles, “You look ridiculously sexy in these leggings.”

I giggle as he grazes his teeth along the edge of my ear lobe. His arms snake around my waist as I spin to face him, resting my forehead on his. When his pelvis pushes against me, I can feel him rock hard through the thin cotton of his scrubs. I squirm against him, insanely turned on by the depth of how much he means to me.

He grabs a handful of my ass, fingers digging in so hard it could leave a bruise. “Do you know how badly I want to bend you over this bed right now and fuck you from behind?”

“Do it. Fuck me, Jude.”

His self-control snaps before my very eyes, as he reaches his hand inside the tight fabric of my leggings, pushing right past my thong, and dipping a finger into me.

When he feels how wet I am, his expression grows even darker. Those blue eyes burning from sapphire to midnight.

The doorbell rings, causing us both to jump, breaking our horny little spell.

“Stop having sex and open the door,” Delaney yells from outside.

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