It’s the first time he’s hugged me, and the warmth of his body, mixed with the heady scent of him, makes me melt. There’s no stopping it now as I absolutely lose it. I haven’t cried—reallycried—in years, and definitely not with someone around to witness it. He’s making quiet shushing sounds as he rubs my back, not saying anything, not feeling the need to fill the silence or try to fix me.
“You’re okay, I’m here.” Wes’s voice is lined with an emotion I can’t quite place.
The way he runs his hand gently up and down my back soothes something deep inside of me. My brain knows he’s just my friend, that this can’t be more than that. My body, though? It hasn’t gotten that memo, and it’s purring like a kitten at his every touch, wanting more. I push my body’s pesky feelings down, letting my brain take over and hide them away in a box like I do with all my other emotions. He’s being a good friend; this doesn’t mean anything.
You’re sick, Joss, just take the comfort where you canget it.
I want to say something, explain away the mess that I am so that he doesn’t bolt and never come back, but the heaviness of sleep is pulling at me. The last thing I’m aware of before sinking into the haze of cold medicine and exhaustion is a pair of soft lips against my temple. There are no words, at least not that I can hear, but I feel them there as I’m swept away.
Light streaming through the cracks of the curtains pulls me into consciousness sometime later. My head is pillowed on a strong chest that is softly rising and falling. My arm is slung around Wes’s waist, and one of my legs is entwined with his. His arm is wrapped around my back, his hand resting in the dip of my waist. Tangled up in him doesn’t even begin to cover the way I’m feeling right now.
I thought waking up last night holding hands was intimate, but waking up in his arms is something entirely different. I don’t want to move, but I also know I can’t stay here. Not like this, not if we have any hope of maintaining our boundaries. Boundaries that we’ve been pushing since the moment I got home yesterday.
Each movement I make to extricate myself from his limbs is measured until I finally get free and roll to my side of the bed. Not that Wes has a side. No, this whole bed is mine. I slide my feet into my slippers and stand up too fast, watching as the room spins, forcing me to sit back on the bed. Okay, slower this time. I move toward the bathroom at a snail’s pace, bringing my water bottle with me.
I’m a sight to behold when I look in the mirror. What used to be a messy bun looks more like a bird’s nest on top of my head. There is a distinct line across my cheek from where it was pressed into the seam of Wes’s Henley, and there are smudges of mascara and lord knows what else on my face. Wes’s words from last night come back to me.There’s not a version of you that wouldn’t be hot to me.
Sighing, I walk to the tub and turn on the water. I need to wash away the grunge of my flight, the clamminess coating my body, andallthe feelings. Feelings that poured out as a result of Wes’s unexpected kindness, and a host of others I can’t seem to keep locked up.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wes
The sound of running water wakes me up. My eyes blink away the sleep, and it all comes back. Joss passing out in the hallway. Helping her to bed and taking care of her. Sleeping with her hand in mine. Holding her while she cried. I fell asleep with her in my arms, and it was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. Probably since the crash. I didn’t dream, and there were no nightmares.
She’s not in my arms now though, and I can hear her humming softly in the bathroom. It’s a stark reminder that I also have needs. I wouldn’t hesitate to stay in this exact spot all day if I didn’t, but I make my way to the half bath in the hallway.
Will Joss feel up to eating? What about coffee? I desperately need both. Finding a pad of paper on the kitchen counter, I leave a note for her.
Grabbing my wallet and phone, I head out the door and down the elevator. There’s a text from Breck in response to the one I sent him late last night telling him to count us out for dawn patrol.
Breck
No worries, mate. You missed an epic sunrise. How is she feeling this morning?
There’s a picture of the sun coming up over the horizon that I’ll have to show Joss later. I’m glad he went without us; he needs that time as much as I do, and he doesn’t get to do it nearly as often.
Me
Better, I think. Headed out for coffee and breakfast.
I pass Frank, who takes in my appearance with an appraising look. I’m suddenly aware that I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes, and that they look significantly more rumpled now.
“How’s our girl this morning?” Frank asks.
Besides yesterday, when his focus was on Joss and words were necessary, this is the most he’s said to me since I moved in. I smile at the way he calls her “our girl,” as if I have some claim over her. Hope rises in my chest at thenotion.
“Better. I’m headed for breakfast. Want anything, Frank?” Maybe a pastry is the way to this man’s heart, or maybe it was just taking care ofour girl, because he gives me what looks almost like a smile and asks for black coffee.
The brisk temperature as I walk to Harbour Grounds invigorates my brain. Which is good, because it’s lagging this morning. Maybe the coffee on the other side of this glass door will bring me the answer to the question rolling around up there.
How on earth am I supposed to separate last night from the friendship Joss and I are building?
It’s only been a month, but I’ve grown closer to her than almost anyone else in my life. I don’t let myself think about the disaster that was my last romantic relationship, and the easiest friendship I’ve ever had is also something I can’t think about right now. Not without spiraling about the crash. Being around Joss though, talking to her… It’s as effortless as breathing. There’s a familiarity as if we’ve been friends for years, not weeks.
I pull open the door to Harbour Grounds, and the warm smell of coffee and sugar hits me. I relax a little further. That is, until I hear my name screeched from behind the counter and realize my mistake.
“Wes! Have you heard from Joss? She never texted me after her trip. Did her flight get canceled?” The panic in Jaz’s voice is evident as she bolts from around the counter, ignoring the customers waiting to order.
