Until Cobi (Until Him 3)

I ignore the way my stomach clenches and shake my head. “We’ll talk.”

“When?”

Never.

“Later, just not right now, not when I’m at work and not with all my co-workers watching,” I say, not even having to look out my office window to see that all eyes are still on us.

“Another lie.” He looks away pushing his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be at your place tonight, at eight. Gonna warn you baby if you’re not there and I have to track you down, I’m going to be pissed.”

“You’re already pissed,” I point out the obvious, then fight the urge to take a step back when his jaw twitches and his eyes darken.

“I spent all night worried about you, worried if you were sleeping, worried if you had another nightmare, worried that no one would be there for you if you did. All fucking night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of you. So yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”

He spent the whole night worried about me? Why does that make my stomach feel warm? Without me even trying, the tension leaves my muscles and my body softens. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I should have called you to tell you I was okay.”

“Did you sleep?”

I look away then bite my lip before I shake my head. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I was so afraid of having a nightmare that I laid awake all night, pretending to watch TV while thinking about him. I really hate that he did the same thing.

“When is your first doctor’s appointment?”

“What?” I look at him, confused by his change of subject.

“Your appointment, the one Brie is setting up for you. When is it?”

Crap, of course he remembers that I told him I was going to talk to someone. “Today, after I get off work.”

“Good, baby,” he says softly as his expression gentles.

God, I love when his voice goes soft like that, really love the look on his face right now. I don’t say that. Instead, I whisper, “I really need to work, Cobi, but I hope you know I’m truly sorry for making you worry last night. I should have thought about that and at least called to tell you I was okay.”

“I’ll call us even if you stop avoiding me now.” I don’t agree out loud, since that would be a lie and he might confront me again. Instead, I nod once. “Even not speaking out loud, you’re a shit liar.”

Seriously, how the hell does he know when I’m lying? I don’t have a tick or a tell; I don’t twirl my hair or get a twitch under my eye. “Are we done?”

“Not by a long shot.” He uncrosses his arms. “Still, I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thanks.” I fight the need to roll my eyes at him.

“See you tonight.”

“Yep.” I nod.

He shakes his head and his lips twitch. I don’t know what he finds funny, but I can tell he is finding something entertaining. “Later, baby.” He turns and leaves, opening and closing the door.

I try not to feel disappointed that he didn’t even try to touch or kiss me, as I take a seat at my desk. And I avoid looking out into the main office, where I can feel eyes on me. I try to get back to work, having a hard time doing it, because I keep thinking about him. Eventually, I pull myself together enough to answer the e-mails flooding my inbox. Once I’m done in the office, I head out to check on my clients—a couple who recently adopted a newborn baby girl. I spend some time with them, making sure they’re settling in okay, then leave for my doctor’s appointment across town, something I’m not at all looking forward to.

_______________

Feeling drained, I leave Dr. Sprat’s office at ten after six, giving his secretary a small wave before heading out to the parking lot. I had no idea what my appointment today would be like. I really had no clue that Dr. Sprat would not only get me to open up about what happened to Harmony and me, but also find a way to get me to talk about my past and my parents. The whole thing was tiring, but if I’m honest with myself, it felt good to talk to someone who isn’t biased and doesn’t know me. When he asked me to come back in a few days to talk some more, I didn’t tell him no. Instead, I agreed to see him again.

I head for my car, digging my keys out of my purse, and then stop midstep to look around when I feel like someone is watching me. “Seriously?” I whisper, spotting Cobi leaning against my car with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on me through the dim light coming from the street lamps in the parking lot. “It’s starting to feel like you’re stalking me,” I call out to him as I get a hold of my keys.