Fuck, I'm excited.
Tomorrow's the day. It's finally happening—I get to marry the love of my life, and I swear I can't wait to fucking finally see her walking down that aisle.
I just want to call her my wife, want her to carry my name.
"Do we really have to do that?" Mila groans, and I glance over to see Jas crossing her arms in front of her chest, narrowing her eyes at her best friend.
"Yes, you do."
They're still discussing that damn tradition of not sleeping in the same bed the night before the wedding. Honestly, I'm not even phased by that. I'm just watching them silently, sipping my morning coffee in contentment.
Truth is, no matter what they decide, there's no way I'm not sleeping next to my wife-to-be.
"Hayden, please help me out here." Mila shoots me a pleading glance, obviously as annoyed by Jasmine as I am.
"Jasmine." I turn to look at her. "We're not doing that. Mila is almost seven months pregnant and doesn't need her nerves wrecked because of this."
"Ah, come on..." Jasmine rolls her eyes. "She won't be nerve-wrecked. We're doing our little bachelorette thing, and then she's coming home with me and we'll finish with a sleepover. Popcorn and all."
"Jas—"
"No, Mila. You'll be one of those boring wives as of tomorrow. I just want one more night with my free best friend."
I widen my eyes at her words. "Damn, you make it sound like she's going to prison."
"With you as her husband? Fuck yes, she's going to prison. As if you'd let any other man ever look at her again," Jasmine says, and I can't really fight her on that one, honestly.
"You realize I'm still here, right?" Mila asks, her arms crossed as she glares at her best friend.
I have to stifle a laugh from the sight. She's so goddamn cute when she's angry. "Come here, love."
Mila turns to me when I address her, taking my outstretched hand before I pull her in my lap. "I don't want to spend the night without you," she whispers, and I can't help but grin, knowing once again we're on the exact page.
"Then you won't. Just give her what she wants for now, okay?" I whisper back, hoping to hell Jas won't hear me. My pregnant fiancée seems utterly confused, and I snicker before I press a kiss on her lips, trying to reassure her. "Just trust me, Lucky. You won't sleep alone tonight."
And then she finally nods, a huge beam on her face when she brushes her lips against my nose. "Okay. I love you."
"Love you too," I retort with a smile.
"Good God, you're getting worse and worse with every goddamn day." Jas rolls her eyes at us, but I just shoot her a wink as I pull Mila closer.
She might not be wrong, but I absolutely do not give a single fuck about that.
***
"Bro, I don't get it. It's the one time in your life you're allowed to have strippers and be in a relationship." Kilian shakes his head at me.
I'm just about to say something to that when Abe chimes in, "I don't think that's how it works, Kill."
"Yeah." I nod. "I second that."
"Wait, what? Are you serious? Man, why are people getting married, then?" Kill asks, and I can't help but snort at that question. Sometimes I wonder why I love that idiot so much.
"You have met my wife, right?" I ask with a raised brow.
"Yes, also, she's not your wife yet."
"That's just a technicality. What I'm saying is, does Mila strike you as the kind of woman who'd appreciate half-naked women dancing around me?"
"Well, no, but..."
"No buts. She doesn't want it, I don't want it—end of story."
"Way to ruin my fucking night, man..." Kill mutters, and as much as he irritates me, I laugh again, shaking my head as I take a seat on a highchair of the old rustic bar I chose for my bachelor party.
"I'm pretty sure this isn't your night, Kill. Get your shit together, dude," Abe exclaims, eliciting an eye roll from my best friend.
Even though Kill seems to miss the understanding of marriage and what it means to a happy couple, we do end up having a great time. I can't deny it's been a while since we've been out like that, and I really miss my best friend.
Don't get me wrong, Mila is all I ever wanted, but Kilian's been there from the very start. We supported each other through the shittiest of times, and I'll forever be grateful for that.
"Dude, how long do you think it'll take him?" Kill points at Abe, who's shamelessly trying to hit on a redhead by the bar. I shake my head with a laugh in response, taking a sip of my beer.
"Tough question. I don't think he'll make it. Look at her, she's classy. Wouldn't be surprised if he got himself slapped in the face tonight, honestly," I retort, watching the interaction with interest.
"It's the fucking redheads, I'm telling you. They're annoying as fuck," Kill says with a sigh.
I turn to look at him, narrowing my eyes before I ask, "Since when do you care if they're annoying? I thought that didn't get to you?"
He might even be right about that, considering how many of them he brings home on a regular basis. Kill prides himself on being able to deal with any kind of woman. "Yeah, well, some of them just fuck with you," he mutters, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Okay, what the fuck am I missing here?" I ask, knowing there's something going on he isn't telling me.
He sighs in response, shaking his head before he answers. "Nothing, nothing. I just don't know, man. Sometimes it's too easy."
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I can't help but laugh. "Too easy? Dude, if it's too easy, you're definitely chasing the wrong woman."
He turns to me, narrowed eyes studying me with interest. "Isn't it supposed to be easy? A relationship? You know I don't get that shit, man. I have no idea how it works."
His admission makes me smile. Kilian hasn't had it easy, as much as one might think otherwise because of his cocky behavior. But I'm glad he's even contemplating that direction in life. All I want is for him to be happy. "The chasing isn't supposed to be easy. Believe me, if the woman is worth having, you'll fight for her. She won't just jump you like most of them do when they see you."
"Dude, that sounds like so much work. Are you fighting for Mila still?" he asks, and I have to stifle a laugh now. It's easy to forget just how little he knows about this stuff.
"Well, yes, and no. I'll forever fight for her if I need to. But I don't have to. Relationships are work, yes, but with the right person, that work doesn't feel like work at all; it feels like accomplishment and pride. You know as well as I do that Mila and I are unconventional—it was work getting us to where we are, but it didn't feel like it. Because we love each other."
He looks at me with wide eyes, studying me with interest I haven't seen before in him, and I think I might've gotten somewhere with that. But then that fucker opens his mouth again. "Duu-huuude...you are so fucking whipped."
His laughter is almost contagious, but I try not to give him that satisfaction as I take a sip of my beer and mutter, "For fuck's sake, I hate you."
"You love me, man. You and I both know that." He chuckles, and I can't even fight him on that.
Fucking idiot.
We spend the rest of the evening joking and watching Abe hit on numerous women. By the end of the evening, he and Kill both end up with a woman on their arms, and in the end, I shake my head when they ask me to go to the club next door.
"Nope, I'm out. You go and have fun. I need to go see my girl anyway," I say with a laugh, watching how some blonde is sucking Abe's face off.
"You sure? This is your bachelor party..."
"Oh, now you care about that?" I raise an eyebrow at Kill, who shrugs with that stupid grin on his face.
"You know what I mean, man."
I nod. "Yeah, yeah, I do. Seriously though, you're good. Go and have fun. I want to be in shape tomorrow."
"I told you, man, you're fucking whipped!" Kill laughs again, but I flip him the bird in response, hailing a cab as I walk off.
It's not that he's wrong—I am whipped like cream—but I can't help it. And I absolutely don't mind. If there's anyone who has any hold over me, it's my woman, and I'll forever make sure she knows just that too.
It's after midnight by the time I get back to Mila's place, and I use the spare key she once gave me to slip into her old apartment, trying to be as silent as possible as I sneak through the hallway to Mila's room.
They must both be asleep already; it's so eerily quiet that I feel my own blood rushing in my ears. I tiptoe toward the door with the large orange M on it, courtesy of Jasmine for Mila's birthday, and place my hand on the door handle.
"You have got to be kidding me," Jasmine's voice behind me startles me, and I jump around, only to find her standing there with a baseball bat in her hand.
"Holy shit, Jas."
She slaps the bat on her palm, shooting me glares before she points the top at me. Damns, she's scary. "You, sir, are lucky I didn't smash your head in, you fucking idiot!"
Her words are whispered, but I hear them loud and clear. I know she's sincere. She definitely would've swung that thing at me if I was an intruder. I'm kind of glad about it; knowing Mila's best friend is so protective helps a lot.
"I'm sorry! Jesus... Put that thing down, please."
"You can't even stay away from her for one fucking night?" she asks while lowering the bat to the ground, her arms now crossed in front of her chest.
"Uh...no. I'm afraid not."
"Fucking hell," she mutters, and I notice how she regards me, trying to think of a way to get rid of me. "Fine." She finally gives in. "It's not like I can stop you. And you're here already."
"Thank—"
"Yeah, yeah. Go now before I change my mind."
I respond with a nod, quickly slip into Mila's room, and quietly close the door behind me. I turn around, and suddenly have to catch my breath. The most beautiful sight ever known to mankind right in front of me almost makes me dizzy.
My gorgeous fiancée lies in her bed, wearing just a sports bra and her panties, one leg hooked over the blanket she formed into an almost human-like wall, her arm hugging it tightly, holding on to it.
"Well, fuck me," I mutter, still taking in the scenery.
The moonlight bleeding through the curtains illuminates her in an almost celestial way, her skin glowing from the bright shine. The realization that I get to call this woman my wife tomorrow settles in my mind, and for a moment I watch her sleep, her quiet snore vibrating through the room.
I get out of my jeans and shoes, shrugging off my jacket and shirt before I slip into bed behind her, my arm wrapping around her waist.
"Hmm, Cash," she whispers in her sleep, and I have to grin at that too. Pressing a kiss on her temple, I feel her stir beneath me before she turns around with a yawn. "Hey, Mr. Cross..." she whispers, half asleep.
"Hello, Mrs. Cross. What have you been up to?"
"Thinking of you," she admits. Her lips brush over my chest, and I can't help but groan when she hooks her leg around me, perfectly aligning our bodies.
"Is that right?" I ask, pulling her closer in my embrace.
"Hmm." Her fingers wander down to my boxers when she whispers, "I missed you..."
"I missed you too," I retort, trying my hardest to control myself.
She massages me through my boxers, and I immediately grow hard when she says, "I love you so much." She slows her movements, her body relaxing against my touch as I massage her back, loosening all the tight muscles I can find as she sighs into my neck.
"I love you even more," I whisper before I spin her around, but the second I see her lying beneath me, I have to stifle a laugh. "You've got to be kidding me."
Her eyes are closed, her mouth agape as her quiet snore vibrates around us. Chuckling, I lie down next to her, pulling the duvet over both of us as she cuddles closer to me with a smile on her lips.
I wrap my arms around her, securing her in my embrace as I place one last kiss on the woman I get to call my wife tomorrow. "Sleep tight, Mrs. Cross..."