Page 19 of Blue Line

Because the more time I spend with him, the more I think I might be very much in trouble.

Chapter eight

Wes

When I come downstairs the next morning, Holt’s already in the kitchen drinking coffee.

“Morning,” I greet him as I pour myself a cup.

“Hey.”

I take my first sip, closing my eyes and letting the caffeine seep through my body. I don’t know what it is about the first sip of coffee, but it’s the best one of the day. Always.

“So how did it really go last night? I know you said it was fine, but …”

Can’t a guy drink his coffee in peace without the hard-hitting questions first thing in the morning?

“It was …” I pause, taking another drink of my coffee. “Her ex is an asshole, and so is his mother, by the way. Dodged a bullet there. But otherwise, it was fine, like I said.”

I walk over to the fridge and pull out ingredients to make breakfast.

“Want some?” I ask, holding up the cartoon of eggs.

“Nah, I already ate.”

I nod, setting the frying pan on the burner. I turn on the stove, crack a couple of eggs into a bowl, and scramble them before pouring them into the hot pan.

“You still want to hit the gym and then the rink this morning?” he asks.

“Yeah. Unless you’ve got something else you wanna do.”

He shakes his head, studying me. I ignore him, focusing on the pan and my eggs.

“You’re not going to see them again, are you?”

I turn off the stove and grab a plate out of the cabinet, then scoop my eggs onto it and add a slice of cheddar cheese on top.

“Nope,” I tell him, taking a seat at the table next to him.

Holt doesn’t say anything else about it, and I’m thankful for that because I don’t want to lie to my best friend, but I don’t want to tell him that we hung out after we left the party. Not that we did anything wrong and have anything to hide.

But it felt like a real date. Like something we’d do together if Hadley and I were actually real. But if we were real, I would have kissed her. Multiple times. But I didn’t. Because things aren’t that way between us. Even though I desperately want them to be.

We’re all sitting around the living room after lunch, relaxing. Hadley and her mom are reading. Her dad is napping in his recliner, and Holt and Becca are having a quiet conversation next to me. The only one not present is Hazel, who is asleep in Holt and Becca’s room. I’m starting to fall asleep when my phone rings, startling me.

Why is John calling me?

“Shit. Sorry,” I tell Holt when I accidentally bump his legs as I stand.

“My agent,” I say by way of an excuse as I make my way out of the living room.

“Hey, John. What’s up?” I ask. I take the stairs two at a time and walk into my room, closing the door quietly behind me.

“Weston. Congrats.”

“Ummm …” I run a hand through my hair.

“On your engagement.”