American library books » Other » Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3 by Hopkins, Faleena (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

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to find my buddy laying Tempest on my couch!

I’m speechless as she moans and curls into a ball, facing us, hands under her head in the prayer position, lips parted, eyelashes sealed.

Stumbling closer I whisper so as not to wake Will, “Are you kidding me? She’s wasted?”

Zia covers her cousin with one of my throw blankets, setting Tempest’s clutch bag on my armchair to be easily found tomorrow, the other gripped in her hand so tightly as though she’s not sure this is a good idea.

Nax walks up, takes me by my arm, and guides me to the kitchen for more distance from my son’s bedroom. “I’m saying she may be a little wasted, yes.”

“Why are you bringing her here?!”

“Because…” Nax stares at me for a few moments before finishing, “…Bennett didn’t answer his phone.”

I thrust an arm toward my unwanted guest. “Why not bring her to Zia’s?!”

Blue eyes that never seem to stop smiling, implore me to be cool. “Because Zia and I only have this last night together before I go upstate for five days.”

“So what?! You’ll be back. It’s not the end of the world.”

He grabs my shoulders. “Josh, my son was here for a long weekend. I slept here with you, and as much I love you, we don’t share a bed in the same way.” I cock my head and he smirks, “Or at all. We don’t share a bed at all. And I have one more night with my beautiful lady who I love very much, before I have to say goodbye to her again. Then Joe comes back to town and it’s more nights apart. So I need you to take care of Tempest for me.”

Shaking him off, I pace, volume low but if it wasn’t I’d be yelling, “This isn’t college anymore, Nax. I have a son, too. You think I want him waking up to a drunk girl on our freaking sofa?!”

“You said you rolled up the air mattress.”

Freezing, I stare at my friend. “Look, this is really pushing it. I can’t have Will waking up to use the toilet and there’s Tempest, snoring!”

Nax looks over. “She’s not snoring.”

“She might start!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll carry her down the hall, take the elevator again, wait for a cab and bring her to Zia’s.”

“Good.”

He waits. “You really want me to do that?”

“Yes!”

Throwing up his hands, he heads back to the couch, whispering to Zia, “I tried.”

She sighs, “It’s okay,” her sad smile encouraging him to start all over.

Nax half-kneels by the sofa, takes a belabored breath, and starts to slide his big hands under Tempest’s curled body.

“Fine!”

He freezes, looks over his shoulder at me, and rises up to take Zia’s hand and head out. “Thank you. Just tell Will she wasn’t feeling well. That it’s a long subway ride back home. He’s been to her place. That’ll make sense to him.”

“I see you already had it all figured out.”

Nax smirks, “I’m here for you.”

“Funny.”

“Thank you, Josh,” Zia smiles, “Really, thank you.”

Nax nods once. “I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” I exhale, forced to admit, “You helped me, remember? I owed you one.” Cutting a wary look to my occupied couch, I shake my head, “Now it’s paid up.”

The fucker blows me a kiss before they disappear.

I turn the dead bolt, muttering, “I can’t believe this.”

As good a story as his fable was, she has no idea where she is and unless she’s in on it the lie won’t fly. If Will wakes Tempest up she won’t corroborate it. I don’t want to blow up the damn air mattress again. I need the office while I help Christina get her charity off the ground, and get mine back on track, too. I don’t want to work at the dining table while Nax is gone.

When he gets back, I’ll make due again, and he can take over the office again. Because he’s my buddy. And I like having him here. It’s not a big deal.

Wait, what time is it? Almost three o’clock. “That settles it,” I mutter. The pump is so loud it’ll probably wake Will anyway, compounding my problem.

She’s gonna have to sleep in my bed.

Walking over I kneel by Tempest, my head tilting as I figure out how best to go about this. What if she wakes up when I’m lifting her up? That’ll be jarring.

She might scream.

Not good.

Glancing to Will’s room, I shake my head again.

Do I have a choice?

Nope.

I’ll just slide my hands under the middle of Tempest’s back, and her knees, lift her up, and that’ll be that.

Reaching for her, palms flat and up, I move as slow as if she were a sleeping animal who might bite me.

You can do this.

Just lift the woman up!

But it’s not that easy.

I haven’t lifted anyone since I picked Leah up when she fell at our favorite restaurant, the brain aneurism instantly taking her away from me forever, with no warning. We were on a date-night, hadn’t been just us in months. Everything was perfect. Food was spectacular. The owner was so happy to see us again he made us a special dessert and said it was on the house. Leah never got a bite of it. She just looked at me, opened her lips to speak, and fell to the floor before I had a chance to catch her. Ambulance came but it was too late. Took me months before I realized I never paid our bill.

My arms quickly retract as Tempest sighs and rolls over, pulling the small throw blanket with her. One leg gets exposed as her dress finds a new home between her knees. Gold high heels with pretty anklets dangling.

Mouthing a silent, “Shit,” I stand up, and scratch my bedhead into even more directions.

I freeze as she grumbles, “Where’s my goose-down?”

Her body goes lax. She starts snoring.

I nearly snap my fingers as I whisper, “I knew she would!”

Walking to the kitchen I pour a glass of water and glug it down, gasping for air and eyeing my problem as

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