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Until December: Until Her/ Until Him
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Table of Contents
Until December
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Other Books by Aurora Rose Reynolds
About the Author
Until December Copyright © 2019 ARR-INC. E-Book and Print Edition
Cover Image Wander Aguiar
Cover design by Sara Eirew
Interior Designs Formatted by CP Smith
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons or living or dead, events or locals are entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ Use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
All rights reserved.
This isn’t a dedication it’s a request.
If you ever have the opportunity to jump, DO IT!
Prologue
I SIP FROM my fourth—or maybe it’s my fifth—glass of wine, not caring one little bit that I’m officially past tipsy or that April and I are both going to have to find rides home tonight. Not that it will take us very long to find people willing to cart us home with our family and friends all here. Most of them are currently out on the dance floor, letting loose to the loud music the DJ is playing. I should be out there with them, but instead, I’m sitting in a dark corner of the room drinking alone.
Okay, I’m actually hiding.
I fan my hand in front of my warm face, unsure if it’s hot in here or if the wine is making me feel overheated. I need air, water… and air. I stand, swaying slightly, and catch April looking at me. She’s currently pressed tightly to the side of a large man who seems to be enjoying her company, judging by the hand he’s had on her bottom for the last twenty minutes. I read her look, the question in her eyes asking if I’m okay, if I need her.
“She really is a good sister, even if she did claim Gareth first,” I mutter drunkenly to myself before I give her a dorky thumbs-up and point toward the exit door. She nods one time before focusing once more on the guy she’s clinging to. I set down my empty wine glass and pick up an untouched glass of water off one of the tables. I gulp it down before I move toward the bright sign in the back of the room.
When I step outside, I silently congratulate myself for making it without falling on my face in these shoes. The black, clingy dress I have on couldn’t be worn with my usual flats, so I’m wearing sandals, high ones, with pointy toes and a slim heel. They look sexy but are sucking the life out of my feet. I lift one foot from the ground to rid myself of the torture devices then giggle as I stumble sideways.
“I got you.” Strong arms wrap around me, keeping me from tumbling to the ground, and I shiver from the embrace despite the fact that I feel so overheated.
I glance up and my cheeks grow even hotter than they already are as I look into Gareth’s eyes. “Seriously? My luck sucks.”
“What?” he asks as he chuckles, the warm sound vibrating against my back and through me.
“Nothing.” I turn around to face him, taking a step back. He doesn’t let me go completely. His heavy palm is still wrapped around my hip like he doesn’t believe I’ll be able to hold myself up. “Please ignore anything I say or do from this point on.”
His gaze bores into mine before he asks, “So you want me to ignore you like you’ve been ignoring me all night?”
I have been ignoring him. After April joined us at the bar and told him that I’m always a good girl, I made my escape and have avoided him since then.
I close my eyes and what happened earlier this evening plays through my mind like a movie.
I watch the happy couple enter the ballroom, along with everyone else, and smile when my cousin lifts his new wife’s hand in the air, grinning hugely before he spins her around to face him. When he has her where he wants her, he dips her back over his arm and kisses her. Everyone applauds and laughs, including me. I’m happy for him, but happier for Hadley. Over the last few months, we’ve gotten really close, and I know from her past that she deserves her happily ever after more than most people do.
“I wonder who’s next,” my sister April says, and I look over at her, feeling myself frown.
“What?”
“I wonder who’s next. You know—the next person who’s going to fall in love. It seems to be happening at an alarming rate.” She takes a drink from her beer and glances around. “I’m saying not it. I have no desire to be shot at or kidnapped just to find love.”
“You’re so dramatic.” I shake my head at her.
“Am I?”
Okay, she’s not. There seems to be a theme when it comes to anyone with the Mayson last name falling in love. But still.
“Are you going to drink?” she asks, changing the subject and studying the glass of water in my hand.
“Probably not.” I move to one of the tables set up around the dance floor and take a seat, smiling at a few people I know who are already sitting down.
“Good, you get to be my DD for the night,” she says, sitting in the seat next to mine.
“Great,” I sigh, not really looking forward to babysitting her all night to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. I love my sister, but she tends to push the boundaries of stupidity.
“Who’s that?”
I look in the direction her eyes are pointed, and the world around me seems to come to a standstill. Across the room, talking to my cousin Sage and Brie’s husband Kenyon, is a guy. Not just a guy, but the most gorgeous guy I have ever seen in my life. He’s tall, taller than Sage, and almost as tall as Kenyon, who’s practically a giant compared to everyone. His dark brown hair is longer on top and clipped short on the sides. He’s in profile, so I can’t see all of his face, but his jaw, covered in a rough-looking beard, is all sharp edges and straight lines. He has tattoos peeking out from above the edge of his collared shirt, and more on his thick forearms that I can see where his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His arms are so huge I doubt I could wrap both my hands around one of his biceps.
When he turns his body in my direction and smiles at something Sage says, my breath catches. I thought he was handsome in profile, but I was wrong. Straight on, his look is captivating and mysterious, with thick brows over his piercing blue eyes and full lips surrounded by his beard.
“Whoever he is, I’m taking him home tonight,” my sister says, and my stomach plummets. “God, he’s hot. I can’t wait.”
I swallow the sudden unexpected jealousy I’m feeling and really wish I hadn’t agreed to be her DD, because I don’t just need a drink, I need a whole bottle of tequila right now.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I hiss, cutting her off and catching her gaze.
“Getting laid is not stupid. You’d know that if you ever tried it once in a w
hile.”
I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something mean then look around the room for a place to escape. The sign for the restroom is like a neon flashing light catching my attention. I stand up. “I’ll be back,” I mumble, before I scurry away with my head down and my heart lodged in my throat.
Since growing up, my sisters and I have had a rule. If one of us likes a guy, he’s completely off limits, even if he’s not interested in whoever has a crush on him. That rule has saved us on more than one occasion, but now I wish the stupid rule didn’t exist. When I get to the restroom, I walk to one of the stalls and stand there trying to get myself under control.
I know April, know she’s probably already made a move to talk to whoever he is, and know without a doubt that he will be interested, because I have never met a guy who isn’t interested in her. She’s beautiful, funny, and outgoing—three things I am not. I’m cute enough, can be funny when I’m with my friends or family, but it takes time for me to warm up to people I don’t know. I’m also the opposite of outgoing. I prefer books and laziness to getting out and having adventures. I have always been the same way.
After I know I’m not going to do something crazy, like punch my sister in the face, I leave the bathroom and start to head toward the bar, figuring one glass of wine won’t hurt. I place my order with the bartender then lean into the wood bar top with my forearms.
“You’re Sage’s cousin, right?” a deep voice asks, and my hair stands on end while butterflies take flight in my stomach.
I don’t have to look to know it’s him speaking. Still, I tip my head way back to catch his gaze. Lord, save me. He’s tall and so beautiful. I thought I got that from across the room, but seeing him up close is something else.
“I think he told me you were.” His brows draw together over his blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes as I stare at him.
I mentally slap myself and force my mouth to start working. “Yes, I’m December.”
His brow relaxes and he leans into the bar next to me with his hip, crossing his arms over his chest. “Another month.” His eyes twinkle with humor.
“Pardon?”
“Met a July, June, May, and April. Now, December.”
At the mention of April, my stomach twists. “Our parents were keeping with a theme.” I pick up my wine and take a very unladylike gulp. Why didn’t I see him first?
“Gareth.” His hand comes my way. I don’t want to take it, really don’t want to, but my manners force me to place my hand in his. When his rough, warm strength envelops my hand, my breath sticks in my lungs. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I lick my lips, and whisper, “You too.” With my hand still held in his, his gaze searches mine. The intense look in his eyes makes me feel funny, makes me feel like he sees some part of me I don’t even know about.
“I thought you weren’t drinking.” My eyes close, blocking out Gareth, as April suddenly tosses her arm around my shoulders. “You’re such a rebel, drinking wine when you’re supposed to get me home safely.”
“It’s just one glass. I’ll be fine to drive you home later.” I open my eyes and turn my head to look at her.
“I know,” she agrees, looking at me, and then she looks at Gareth and smiles. “My sister is a good girl. She always follows the rules.”
God, I really wish that weren’t true.
“Ember.” Warm fingers wrap around my jaw, and I blink away the memory and focus on Gareth’s handsome face that is closer than before.
“Did you just call me Ember?” I frown, offended he’s forgotten my name already.
“Baby, your name represents the cold, but standing in front of you, I feel nothing but heat.”
“It’s because I’m drunk.”
“What?”
“My body is producing heat in order to burn off the alcohol I’ve consumed,” I tell him matter-of-factly. I leave out that the feel of his hard muscles pressed against my soft body is making me stupid, causing my mouth to form words and speak them without my permission.
“Maybe we should get you somewhere you can cool down.”
“I’m outside,” I point out while looking around.
“Yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of a cold shower.”
She’s always a good girl.
April’s words from earlier ring through my mind and my hand balls into a fist. Screw that. For once in my life, I’m going to be bad.
One
December
BEFORE I EVEN open my eyes, I know I’m not in my bed. The sheet I’m under isn’t soft but rough, and there is bright light pooling in through my normally dark curtains. Still... it’s not the sheets nor the bright light seeping through my closed eyelids that leads me to the conclusion that I’m not in my bed. It’s the scent of musk and man, and the heavy arm holding me close. I want to relish the feeling of being held like I am. I want to soak up every detail of this moment, but I know... I know the arm holding me so close, so possessively, is the same one that could start a war between me and my sister. Even if April was enjoying the company of another man last night, rules are rules, and my no longer drunken mind reminds me of them loudly in the bright light of day.
With my heart feeling suddenly heavy inside my chest, I carefully and quietly get up. I’m thankfully still fully clothed, wearing my dress from last night, except my shoes. Shoes Gareth rid me of as I lay on his bed. His bed that he curled himself around me in moments later, ordering me gruffly to go to sleep instead of what I really wanted to do and could tell he did too, judging by his hard-on I felt lying heavy between us.
My eyes slide closed. I can’t think about his sweet gesture right now. Right now, I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like climb back into bed with him, or worse, go to his kitchen to make him breakfast. As quietly as I can, I pick up my shoes and purse from the floor and move toward the door. It’s only a couple steps, but it feels like it takes forever to finally grasp the silver handle.
After I turn the knob, I look over my shoulder to make sure the man in the bed behind me is still asleep as the door creaks open. Seeing he’s just as I left him—his head on his pillow, his strong features relaxed, and his big strong body shut down—I take a second to memorize every detail, hoping it will be enough to get me through the rest of my boring life.
Shutting the door behind me, I walk down a short hallway and stop suddenly just inside the living room that is open to the kitchen. I didn’t have time to look around last night. The moment Gareth let us inside, he kissed me and didn’t stop until we were in his room. Taking it all in now, I’m surprised. The place looks like a home, not a bachelor pad. It’s gorgeous, bright, and updated, with black cabinets in the kitchen and speckled granite on the counters. The furniture in the living room is worn from use, but there are pictures hanging on the walls—some art and some family photos in well-chosen frames. Knickknacks and books are on the built-in shelves, and boy paraphernalia from video games to sports equipment is scattered across the room.
I want to examine the space and photos for clues about Gareth’s life, but I don’t allow myself the opportunity. I rush to the front door, open it, and step outside. I look around to try to figure out where I am, and my stomach drops to my toes. Across the street is Harmony’s car parked in front of her house, with her husband’s bike parked next to it. Gareth… My eyes close briefly. I can’t believe he is the single dad Harmony mentioned to me and the girls after one of his sons hit a baseball into her car.
Hoping my cousin and her man are still asleep in their bed with no way of seeing me, I put on my shoes and move down the porch to the sidewalk. I hurry to the end of the block and send for an Uber to pick me up. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sigh. I look ridiculous waiting in the chilly morning air, wearing my makeup, dress, and heels from last night. My only saving grace is that it’s early and no one seems to be awake yet.
I watch the street for the Nissan that’s supposed to pick me up, and frown when it turns the co
rner with rap music blaring from the interior. When the car stops at the edge of the sidewalk before me, I look through the passenger window at the white kid wearing a backward baseball cap. He looks no older than sixteen, and I wonder if he should even be behind the wheel.
The window goes down but the music doesn’t. It just gets louder as it escapes the confines of the car. “December?”
“Yes.”
“I’m your ride,” he says before rolling up the window without another word.
I check the app on my phone to confirm he is in fact my ride, then open the back door and get in.
“Yo,” he greets me over his shoulder, smiling as I put on my seat belt. “Good night?”
“Yeah.” I drop my eyes to my phone and ignore the missed calls and texts from April, scanning Instagram so I won’t be forced into an awkward conversation. Not that the kid could hear me over the music, even if I wanted to talk. Halfway to my apartment, the battery dies on my phone, but I still keep my eyes on the black screen until I’m home.
Once I’m inside my apartment, I go right to the kitchen and set out food for Melbourne, my invisible cat. He’s not really invisible, but he might as well be. I never see him except when he’s in need of food or attention—the latter very rare.
After I’m done, I walk to my bedroom and strip out of my dress. I brush my teeth as the shower warms up, then step in and let the hot water run over me. I try not to think about Gareth, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s realized I’m gone, and then I think about what his reaction might have been when he woke up alone.
Maybe he didn’t care that a woman snuck out on him. But in my heart, I want to believe he did.
Once I’ve washed my hair, conditioned it, and have scrubbed myself from head to toe, I get out and dry off. I wrap myself in my robe then go to the kitchen and make myself a single cup of coffee and some toast. I sit on one of the two barstools at the makeshift island in my kitchen and eat in silence before I go back to my room and put on my favorite sweats and hoodie.