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I try to suppress my grin, but I don't try too hard. "I'm not."
Part of me wondered whether I was just a fling, or a near-fling, for Wilby. He's attractive, adventurous, and completely unbothered about making a fool of himself. I'm sure I'm not the first person to have succumbed to his charms.
I had no way of knowing if I made a lasting impressionon him. But seeing as a decent chunk of Scuttlebutt knows about me, I'm guessing that maybe I have.
He sizes me up, hands on his hips. "You're enjoying this, aren't ya?"
"A little. It's always nice discovering someone is so infatuated with you they tell their whole town about it."
"In my defence, I only told my coworkers…" He pauses, sighs. "Which is basically the same thing."
"There, there." I pat his shoulder. "No one's blaming you, Wilby. I'm pretty fucking spectacular. You're only responding to your base, primal urges."
"Oh, you think so, do ya?"
"Yeah, I do, actually."
Wilby stares at me, and I stare back, keeping my Scuttlebutt-famous eyes on him.
"Where ya stayin'?"
"Upstairs."
He rests his forearms on my shoulders. "In that case, how about you invite me upstairs, and I'll show you just how primal my urges really are?"
With one nod from me, we bolt out of the dining room and bound up the stairs to my room so fast that by the time we reach the door, my head is spinning and I'm out of breath.
My fingers shake as I fumble with the key.
"Hey." Wilby places his hand over mine.
I stop, look at him, and take a breath. "Hey."
He keeps looking at me, an easy smile on his lips. The seconds stretch. Neither one of us moves.
My heart rate slows.
My breathing returns to normal.
He gently strokes the top of my hand. "There you are," he says tenderly.
I melt against the door. "Here I am."
8
Wilby
Here he fucking is indeed.
I'm awash in emotions.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Elation.
Ineverin a million years thought I'd see Col again, and yet here we are, me holding on to his hand, on the dusty first floor of the Scuttlebutt Hotel about to…
