Page 61 of Level Up for Love

A thrum of tension stretches between us. Antagonism? Banter?

Is Wesley flirting?

His eyes sparkle as he watches me. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

His gaze snakes across the doorway, and I finally realize why he’s still standing on the porch.

“Oh, fine. Come in.”

We follow Colin’s spined dragon tail as he shuffles into the kitchen, leading us to the coolers and snacks. I hear the door open again, and when I turn to look over my shoulder at the group that walks in, I freeze. I step—unconsciously, I swear—toward Wesley.

His hand rises to hover over my bare back, though he hesitates right before his skin makes contact. “What is it?”

I shake my head infinitesimally, but it’s enough to jostle the horns on my head.

“Owen is here.”

Motherfucker.

Before I have time to think about it, I hook my elbow through Wesley’s arm and steer us toward the drinks. God knows I’m ready for one now.

I’m struggling to open a can of seltzer—Mona convinced me to wear long black press-on nails—when Wesley takes it from my hands and pops the tab. He plucks his beer from the counter and then directs us into a hallway somewhat out of sight from the entryway. I consider grabbing Mona to warn her—knowing she’ll make a distraction if I ask her to—but she’s still deep in conversation with Shay and her family.

“Which one is he?” Wesley asks. He presses his shoulder against the wall, nearly knocking into a framed photo of Arthur in plate armor. Wesley forms a barrier between me and Owen, blocking me from his sight.

I perch up on my toes to glance over his shoulder. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my skull. “Jon Snow.”

Wesley huffs a laugh. “Oh. I didn’t see him, but that sounds fitting.”

I frown. “How do you figure?”

“From the little you’ve told me, it’s clear he doesn’t know anything.”

I feel a surge of affection that I rush to stomp down, so I glance again in Owen’s direction. It’s enough to rile me back up. “I don’t know why he’s here,” I snap, exasperated.

Wesley shrugs. “He’s probably played at Game Knight before. Maybe he met Arthur or another mutual friend there?”

That…makes sense.

“We could leave,” he says.

I straighten my spine. “I’m not leaving. He’s not going to make me leave, not when we just got here.”

“Okay,” Wesley says evenly. “What do you want to do, then? We could just ignore him.” He crosses his arms over his chest and rests his head against the wall. I still don’t know if Owen has even noticed me, but I imagine his stare boring through Wesley like a laser, trying to see through him to me.

Wesley shifts closer until his face is mere inches from mine. If it weren’t for my heels, he’d be looming over me. His voice is soft. “Do you want to piss him off? Make him jealous?”

Oh.

My jaw tightens. It’s a fun proposal that I would have accepted from any random stranger I’d met at a bar—I might have even suggested it myself. But from Wesley?

I say, “I don’t need you to do that for me.”

I think, I don’t know if I can handle you doing that for me.

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I will, if you want me to.”