“Hey. Ready to go?” Wes says from over my shoulder. His voice is quiet but sure, steady, and I’m almost afraid to turn around and see what he’s thinking. I prepare myself to find regret in his eyes, silently hoping there will be some residual heat there too. I don’t know what I want him to feel, probably because I’m drowning in my own uncertainty.
I suck in one more breath before spinning to face him, but end up refusing to meet his eyes.
Chicken.
“Yup,” I say, popping the P a little more than necessary.Goodness, I’m awkward.
My eyes fall on his torso—the safest place I can think to look—and I take in the way his arms are braced on the sides of the doorframe. I wonder if he plans to move. Before I reach him, he steps sideways just enough so I can slide past him with only a hair’s breadth of space between our bodies. I ignore his sharp intake of air and walk straight to the door, Wes following me without a word.
The elevator ride is silent. Even in the early days, we couldn’t help but banter with each other, and now I can barely bring my eyes to his, though I can feel him watching me. When the doors open, his hand instantly comes to my back, and it burns through the fabric of my top like a wildfire. There’s not a hint of tentativeness in the touch as his fingers flex against me, and I finally gather the courage to look up at him from under my lashes.
He smiles his regular old Wes smile. Cool and confident.
I let myself smile back.This will be fine.
There’s a car waiting at the curb, as neither of us wanted to worry about driving home later. He opens the door for me and I slide in, letting him take the lead and chat with the driver as we head out of the city toward Bellevue Hill where Breck and Talia live. I stare out my window, distracting myself by watching the buildings and lights fade into trees and houses. At some point, Wes covers my hand with his.
“Hey.”
I sigh and sink into my seat slightly. Wes’s salty ocean scent surrounds me, reminding me how it clung to my pillows for days after he slept in my bed.
“I’m sorry,” I say at the same time Wes says, “You okay?”
We both laugh and I let my eyes roam his face. There’s no discomfort or awkwardness there. He motions with his hand, indicating that I can talk first.
“I-I shouldn’t have barged into your room like that. I’m sorry.”
He huffs another laugh. “No worries. I probably should have closed my door since I knew you were coming over.”
He sounds so unaffected, nonchalant. Am I just blowing this out of proportion? So I’ve seen him naked—it’s not like I’ve never seen a naked man before. I’m about to open my mouth, to talk this out just like we did that first day on my patio when we were honest and earnest in acknowledging our attraction, but the car comes to a stop and my words die in my throat.
“We okay?” he asks, his thumb skimming over the top of my hand.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” I reassure him as a shiver coasts down my spine.
He climbs out of the car and lopes around to my side, opening my door for me. He takes my hand to help me step out, then settles his on the center of my back again to lead us up the path. He doesn’t bother with the doorbell, just turns the knob and walks right in. I’m reminded of my excitement for seeing him in his element with his friends.
I’ve surfed with Breck a lot, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know Talia the few times she’s met us for coffee, but this is more intimate. I also finally get to meet Willow tonight, which feels big somehow. With the way Wes talks about her, you’d think they actually share blood.
We follow the voices through the quaint and cozy house. It’s simply decorated and follows a neutral pallet from the look of each room we pass. That must be Talia’s doing. I would expect something much more vibrant and eclectic from Breck, or at the very least beachy. I’m also surprised there aren’t toys and kid stuff everywhere. Talia is clearly tidier than I would be if I had a seven-year-old.
We reach the back door and I can see the leaping colors of the bonfire in the backyard as Wes pulls it open.
“I can’t believe you got started without me,” he calls in mock-outrage.
“Uncle Wes!” A sing-song voice carries across the yard followed by a tiny body running to collide with his legs.
He catches her, lifting until her feet kick above the ground and ruffles her hair, an affectionate smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo.”
“We all know the party doesn’t start until you get here, don’t worry.” Breck walks over, planting a kiss on my cheek then pulling Wes into a hug, effectively sandwiching Willow between them.
“Daddy! You’re squishing me!” Willow squirms between them and Wes lets loose a full-body laugh.
Breck releases them both and Willow slides back to the ground only to have her eyes land on me.
“Willow, I want to introduce you to my friend.” Wes looks between us. “This is Joss. She lives next door to me.”
What will Willow think of her Uncle Wes bringing a friend to her house? I couldn’t blame her if she’d wanted him all to herself. I offer her a smile and extend my hand—do you shake hands with a seven-year-old? No, apparently you do not. She launches herself at me this time and wraps her arms around my legs.
