Page 1 of If It Can't Be Us

PROLOGUE

VIVIAN

January 21

18 Months Prior

“It’s been good seeing you, too.”

Ugh! Gag me.

I meet him halfway and give him an awkward side hug. I had almost avoided having to talk to Creepy the entire night, but as luck would have it, I bumped into him at the food and beverage table filling up my water. Seriously, I wish he wasn’t here. Creepy, aka Sean, is my best friend Sarah’s cousin. I don't understandwhyshe invited him; they’ve never even been close. I guess having your cousin as your next-door neighbor your whole life warrants an invitation. Sean’s a year older than Sarah and me. In high school, he’d stare at my chest and flirt with me non-stop, despite knowing I had a boyfriend. He was like a fly that wouldn’t go away, always lingering and too touchy. After I caught him pervertedly staring at me earlier, he crept his way over to talk to me, and found a way to touch me again.Ugh.I shake him off. I’m not drunk enough for this. Actually, I’m not drunk at all—I’m probably the only sober person here.

I look around and notice almost everyone is on the dance floor. Realizing it’s getting late, I check my watch. It’s 10:30. If we leavesoon, we can be home by 11:30. The music is too loud, and my feet hurt. I’m ready to go. Tonight has been a lot of fun celebrating Sarah’s twenty-eighth birthday, and there’s nobody in this world I’d rather celebrate than her. God, thirteen years of her by my side, inseparable since we were teenagers, is something worth celebrating! But damn, after a long and busy work week, I’m exhausted. I can’t resist kicking off my shoes to give my feet a rest.

Determined to leave the party as soon as possible, I scan the room for the best-looking guy. After a few minutes of searching, I spot him in a dark corner, talking to a couple of friends, laughing. He exudes swagger in his cream suit with a navy-blue shirt, a brown belt, and brown shoes.

Damn. He looks really good.

His medium-brown hair is perfectly styled with a short fade and hard part. I love a good head of hair, and I imagine myself running my fingers through that thick crop. The thought makes me smile. He takes a sip from his whiskey glass, and glances in my direction.

Busted.

Our eyes lock. I slowly and seductively run my tongue over my upper lip. He nods and mouths something that looks like “oh yeah”. I smile and laugh. His green eyes stay locked on me as he raises an eyebrow and mouths something else, which I can’t quite make out but am certain is naughty. A half-smile creeps onto his lips. I pull my long, dark waves forward over my shoulders, slip my shoes back on, and make my way across the room towards him. As I approach, he leaves his circle of friends to meet me halfway.

He takes my hand, smiling, and kisses me on the cheek.

“Hello gorgeous. Where have you been?”

“Hey, you… I’ve been stuck talking to creepy Sean.” I make a pouty face. “Where wereyouwhen I needed you to save me?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I got caught up with the guys, reminiscing.”

“It’s okay… I survived.”

He leans forward and whispers in my ear, “I can’t wait to take you home and get you out of this dress.”

Shameless flirt

The dress was a last-minute find on ASOS, one of the cheapest cocktail dresses I’ve ever bought. After scrolling online for an hour, I found it on sale with free shipping, and it fit perfectly when it arrived. It’s a rosy-lavender mini dress, with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline that accentuates my swelling breasts, giving me the confidence boost I need. I am definitely catching his eye—and everyone else’s.

I cock an eyebrow and scrunch up my face. “Oh, I bet!” I place my hand on my slightly bulging stomach and rub it seductively. “Is this sexy bod doing it for you?” I playfully shimmy my breasts at him.

Laughing, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. “You bet it is. You know I’ve got a thing for pregnant women, babe,” he says with a wink, leaning in to give me a quick kiss. With a more serious tone, he stares into my eyes and adds, “You always look incredible, Viv. Pregnancy looks good on you. You’re sexy as hell.”

God, he is the best.

This is why I love Ben. There has never been a dull moment with him in thirteen years.

Ben and I met in high school when I was a sophomore and he was a junior. I had just moved from Chicago to Park City, Utah, a charming and affluent mountain town, and didn’t know anyone. I was pissed at my parents for moving us across the country, but on my first day, I met Sarah in my algebra class. She introduced me to her friends at lunch, including Ben.

We crushed on each other during that first month, and within eight weeks of moving, I had my firstandlast boyfriend. I broke up with him once in college for eleven weeks after a serious lapse in judgement on my part. A brief fling with someone I met on campus (don’t ask) made me realize how stupid I had been, and I called Ben, ready to get him back. Fortunately, he felt the same way, but hadn’t had the balls to call me. We knew we couldn’t live without each other and got married four years ago. Now, I’m almost seven months pregnant with our first baby, a girl.

Last month, I finally got past the “Are you pregnant… or do you just love donuts?” stage. My belly has firmed up and rounded out. I’m still pretty small, but I look pregnant, and my boobs have never been so big. Seriously, they’re massive. Ben’s loving them! I feel great, but exhaustion is real when you are growing another human inside you. Hence, the tapping out early tonight.

I look at Ben. “Would you hate it if we left now? I’m exhausted.”

“Of course not, babe. You’re the DD, so that makes you the boss.”

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