Unknown number
Oh, and can we stay with you, darling? It’s so hard to find a place in the city last-minute. Love you.
Ohhellno! That is definitely not happening, not after last time. And who is “we”? God, if she thinks she can bringhimback into my house, she has another thing coming. My breath kicks up and no matter how hard I try to settle the pounding in my chest, I’m left gasping and sweating. Is this a panic attack? Is this how Wes felt?
Shit, Wes. We’re supposed to leave town tomorrow. My thoughts are a wild jumble. Impossible to follow as they jump from my mother to Wes. I make myself lean forward, head toward my knees.
“Joss? You okay?”
It’s Katy, the second flight attendant, and all I can do in my current state is lift my right arm and give her a thumbs-up.
Yup, totally fine. Obviously.
I need to get it together. I have a job to do—I can figure this out when I get home. I take a couple more deep breaths, going to my happy place and grounding myself in it.
I’m at least a tiny bit calmer when I sit up and see Katy eyeing me speculatively.
“I’m okay, really. Just got a bit dizzy. All good now.”
Deplaning and cleaning takes a lifetime. By the time it’s finally done, I just want my sweats and some wine and to pretend that I never got those messages.
One foot in front of the other, I walk off the plane. My emotional state resembles a dumpster fire. I’ve stewed and stressed over how to get out of this. I’ve run through every scenario I can think of. I knowshe won’t give up; she’ll just keep spinning it until I finally give in and agree to make time for her. There’s no way she can stay with me, especially ifheis with her. Just thinking of it makes bile rise in my throat.
I’m so far into my own thoughts that I barely acknowledge Frank as I pass through the doors to my building. I’m even less alert as I walk out of the elevator toward my apartment, completely missing Wes opening his door when I pass.
It’s not until he’s by my side, pulling on my arm and saying my name, that I register he’s there.
“Joss? You okay? Are you sick again?” His brow is furrowed as I watch his lips move.
I’m so out of my head that I reach up and use my thumb to soothe away the lines carved between his brows. This gets me an eyebrow raise, which does fix the lines at least, but the smirk and confusion on his face finally break through my stupor.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah. I’m okay.” Am I? I turn back to my door and try to get it unlocked, but my hand shakes. My frustration is rising, threatening to crest like a rogue wave, when warmth covers my hand, steadying it. Steadying me. It’s this touch, the electricity of it, that brings me fully back to my senses. I look up into his eyes as the door swings open and let out a little sigh, shoulders slumping. “I guess it’s time I tell you about my mother.”
A look of surprise takes over his handsome face. I’ve never said a word about my parents to Wes. He asked once and I deflected. He hasn’t brought it up again. Lately, there’s been a nagging tug in the back of my mind telling me that trust goes both ways. Wes hastrusted me with his darkest moments, maybe it’s time I trust him with mine. I don’t know that I have much choice now anyway.
“Oh-kay.” He swoops his hand out to the side. “Uh, let me grab something from my place and I’ll be right back, yeah?”
“Yeah, I need a minute anyway. Gotta change out of this stupid uniform.”
“Nothing stupid about that uniform, Grey.” He gives me an exaggerated wink and smiles, all dimples, as he walks backward toward his door. He’s trying to lighten the mood, and amazingly, it does just that.
“Get out of here, you.” I swat the space between us. He keeps smiling until he’s at his own door and slips inside.
Two minutes. I was in his presence for two minutes and he somehow took me from a spiraling mental mess to a smiling fool. He makes me feel more at ease than I have with any man I’ve ever met.
I close my door, head for the bedroom, and slip into my well-loved purple sweats before dropping my entire uniform into the laundry basket. Good riddance for another five days. I slide on a white tank and throw Wes’s old college hoodie over my shoulder. He left it here one night about a month into our friendship, and I’ve since claimed it as my own. I’m not sure he realizes I have it, and I’m not about to tell him how often I end up sleeping in it. Tonight, I plan on pulling from it the strength I don’t feel.
I hear a light knock before Wes lets himself in, followed by an obnoxious “I’m walking into your apartment, please make yourself presentable.”
The small smile I had on my face two minutes ago pales in comparison to the full-on laugh that escapes me now.
“Staahhhppp,” I plead as I join him in the living room, and he laughs in earnest. “You just had to bring that up. It wasone time.”
I bump him with my hip and trudge over to the fridge.
“The best time of your life, am I right?”
“Oh geez, there he is. There’s that cocky man I met on the plane, I wondered where he went.” I roll my eyes and reach for the bottle of rosé I stocked earlier in the week.
