Until Cobi (Until Him 3)

She’s asked me that question a lot the last few days. She’s called just to ask me if I’m all right, and sent texts asking the same. It feels good that she cares so much, and I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her, Cobi, and Trevor, who have all held my hand every step of the way.

“I’m okay,” I reassure her.

“You don’t need to help with this. We’ve got it under control,” she says, and I look at Cobi’s aunts, who I can tell have done this before.

“I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t, but I do. You need to relax. Really, you should probably have Cobi take you home so you can get some rest. It’s been a long day for you.”

“I—”

“Sweetheart, just give in,” Sophie says, coming toward us and cutting me off. “She’s not going to let up. Plus, she isn’t wrong. It’s been a long day, so you should go home, take a bath, and relax.”

“Mom’s not wrong, and neither is Aunt Sophie,” Cobi states, coming into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around me from behind, and resting his chin on my shoulder. “I was just coming to find you to tell you it’s time to head out.”

“I want to help clean up.” I turn my head to look at him.

“Like Liz and Sophie said, we’ve got it, honey,” his aunt November says, while his aunt Lilly nods in agreement. “Go on home and rest.”

“I—”

“Please,” Liz murmurs, resting her hand on the side of my face. “I know you want to help, but you can do that by letting us take care of you.”

“Oh, all right.” I sigh, and Cobi chuckles, moving from behind me and taking my hand.

“Say goodnight, baby.”

“You’re really annoying when you’re bossy,” I tell him, and his mom and aunts all laugh while he just kisses the side of my head. Before we go, I say goodnight to everyone, including Brie and Kenyon, and then Cobi takes me out to his truck and settles me inside.

When we arrive at the townhouse and get upstairs, he pours me a glass of wine, leaving it on the kitchen counter before disappearing in the bedroom. Just as I’m hooking Maxim’s leash to his collar, Cobi comes out of the bedroom. I watch him go to the kitchen and grab my glass of wine then come toward me holding it. He takes Maxim’s leash from me and hands me the glass.

“Bath’s running. Go on and get in. I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait… What?” I blink at the glass now in my hand then him.

“Bath, baby.” He gently shoves me toward the bedroom. I walk toward the bedroom, but pause to watch him. “Go, baby,” he orders, looking at me before closing the door. After a deep breath, I go through the bedroom and into the bathroom, and stop at the door.

The lights are dim and the large freestanding bathtub is filling with steaming water and fluffy bubbles. I set my glass of wine on the edge of the tub then take off my coat. I hang it in the closet then strip out of my heels and the simple black dress I wore today. I tie my hair up on top of my head and get into the tub, sighing when the hot water touches my skin.

Once I’m sitting in the water, I look around the bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it’s beautiful. There’s a glass-enclosed shower with cream, jade, and white glass tiles in the corner of the room. The walls are painted cream, and the floor matches the rest of the house, which is rustic wood. There’s a long vanity and double sinks, each with a mirror above, and fluffy rugs and towels.

I pick up my glass of wine, trying to remember if I have ever taken a bath before. I probably did when I was little, but I don’t remember. The trailer I grew up in had a bathtub, but it was small, and I wouldn’t take a bath there unless I had a tetanus shot beforehand. There was more rust than paint on the inner surface, and some sharp spots that would cut you if you weren’t careful. I set my glass down and lean back, closing my eyes and allowing the sound of the running water and heat to relax me.

A finger gently slides between my eyes and down to the tip of my nose, and I open my eyes. “Hey, baby,” Cobi says, resting his elbows on the edge, his shirtsleeves now rolled up his forearms.

“I fell asleep,” I tell him, something he obviously knows, and he smiles, touching his finger to my cheek.

His eyes move over the parts of me not covered with bubbles before coming back to mine. “How’s the water?”

“Nice, warm.” I take his hand and study his tattooed skin against mine. “I can’t remember ever taking a bath.”