“Mmm. Coffee sounds amazing. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Hell. That little moaning sound is definitely not helping me keep my thoughts platonic. My hands tighten on the door frame untilmy knuckles turn white. The effect she has on me is electric. I push myself back from the door before I do something stupid.
Coffee. I need coffee.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Joss
I’m having an internal battle of epic proportions. Luxuriate in this bath forever, or get out and drink the coffee that I can hear calling my name from the other room. Decision made, I lean my head back against the cushion and allow myself one final minute. I thought I could untangle the chaos of my feelings while I was in here…
What happened last night?
You lost control of your emotions, Joss. That’s what.
And then there’s Wes, who’s waiting in my living room with coffee and breakfast. Wes, who stayed with me all night, cared for me. Wes, who has become one of my closest friends in only a few weeks. And something tells me if I don’t get out there soon, that very friend might barge in here to make sure I’m alive.
I slip out from the tub and grab my fluffy towel, snuggling into its warmth, and then wrap a second around my damp hair. Giving myself a once-over in the mirror, I give into the reality of just how sick I am. Despite sleeping well, the dark circles under my eyes rival my favorite vampire characters from my youth. My body aches, and I’m already missing the hot water of the bath. I may be feeling better than I was yesterday, but the medicine has definitely worn off.
I peek my head out and spot Wes standing in the kitchen with his back to me, forearms leaning on the bar. His head tips back as he takes a drink of coffee, and I recognize the cup. This man. He walked down to Harbour Grounds for me this morning. He lets out a little groan of satisfaction, and it vibrates through my body like someone struck a tuning fork deep down inside me. Turning my back, I shake my head to clear the thoughts that pop up about what else might make him groan like that.
I flip the light switch, illuminating my closet as I walk in. It’s split into two distinct sections. My uniforms hanging neatly, everything ordered and tidy, pressed to perfection. Then there’s my everyday clothes—all leggings and jeans, knit tops and T-shirts. I rarely dress up, so the few pieces of nicer clothes hang abandoned with my work wardrobe.
I pick a pair of buttery soft leggings and a cozy hoodie. Wes has already seen me at my worst—I doubt he will judge this look too harshly.There’s not a version of you that wouldn’t be hot to me.His words glide through my head once more. My chest tightens at the earnestness of them, the truth in them, even if I can’t seem to believe it.
Feet in slippers and damp hair in a messy bun, I walk out in search of Wes. A pang of disappointment resonates in my chest when I don’t immediately see him at the counter. Did he leave? I turn on the spot until I find him, standing alone on my balcony, in the same clothes he wore yesterday, feet bare, dark hair blowing softly in the breeze.
He’s so at ease with himself, so comfortable here in my space, and so damn sexy. A tiny voice in my head whispersmine, but I shove that into the box. He’s not mine. He never will be, and the sooner I accept that the better off I’ll be.
Like he can sense me, he turns around and joins me in a few long strides. I’m stunned silent by the way his beautiful blue eyes roam over me. I blush, even though I know he isn’t doing it to be flirty. He sets his coffee on the bar, and I see the conflict on his face, like he isn’t sure what to do next.Me neither, Wes, me neither.We stand and look at each other for a beat, neither of us moving, just sharing the same air, the same space.
His fingers twitch by his side. Will he finally move to touch me, save us both from this tense moment? Those fingers curl into a tight fist, his eyes moving to the floor. Okay, then. Should I say something? Thank him for being here, tell him he doesn’t have to stay…? If he’s this uncomfortable after last night, I don’t know what that means for us.
He looks up and his eyes pin mine. I catch the glassy, misty look in them. There is so much feeling written on his face right now. Even after all his concern last night, this is different.
“Can I hug you?” His throat bobs with a swallow. “Please.” The words are hushed, almost pleading. I’m so taken aback that all I can do is nod.
He wastes no time reaching for me and crushing me to him in a hug that tops all hugs. His hold is soft. Careful. My body melts into his as I wrap my arms around his torso. His breath tickles the shell of my ear where he’s bent low. I feel his next inhale like it’s my own. It’s labored, shaky, and when he lets it out, a “Thank you” comes with it.
“For what?” I ask, moving my hands to his arms. If I could push back, look in his face, maybe I could understand what he’s feeling right now. But he doesn’t let up, holding me to him.
“For the hug.” His voice is tight. “You really scared me last night, Grey.” The underlying loss and pain in his words wrecks my heart. I know, somehow, this has less to do with me than it does with him.
“Wes?”
I finally manage to put a few inches of space between us. His eyes are red-rimmed and he looks a little frantic.
“I’m okay, I promise.” I reach down to grab his hand and place it firmly over my heart so he can feel it beating. “I’m right here. I’m just sick. I’ll get better. I’m okay.”
I can feel it in my bones that he needs the reassurance. He leaves his hand over my heart but brings his forehead to rest against mine as his eyes slip closed. I’m unsure how long we stand this way. A few minutes? Hours? Time seems to stop when we touch, and I can’t bring myself to pull away. In the end, it’s Wes who does, but only to bring his hand up to my forehead instead.
“You’re warm again, how are you feeling?”
“Better than last night, but still not great. Can you grab me more medicine? And where’s that coffee you promised?” I joke, trying to bring some levity to the conversation.
His lips quirk and he finally lets me go. “Coffee is right there. I’ll be right back.”
He points to the second cup on the counter before heading back to the bedroom. I grab it, turning it in my hands to warm them up, which is when I see Jaz’s untidy scrawl.
