Page 27 of Bless My Heart

“Thank you, Wes. I really appreciate it.”

“But you know, you’ll have to act like we’re actually together if we’re going to convince them.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You will have to touch me. Maybe hold my hand. You might even have to…gasp…kiss me.” He laughs, but my heart speeds up at the thought of kissing Wes again. I’ve drawn an invisible line I can’t cross because of our situation, but it’s getting harder and harder not to take a little step over. Maybe using the weekend as a little break from holding myself back will help me make it through the rest of the semester.

“I think I can manage that,” I tell him.

“Should we practice now just to make sure we can be convincing enough?”

I roll my eyes at him. “I think we both know we can be convincing.”

“I don’t know…It’s been a while since I’ve kissed you. Since I’ve kissed anyone, actually. Maybe I’ve forgotten how to do it.” My body warms, finding out he hasn’t kissed anyone in awhile. I told him I didn’t want to know if he did, but I am so relieved to find out that he isn’t hooking up with anyone else.

“It’s like riding a bike, Wes. I’m sure it’ll just come naturally to you.” I smile my cheesiest smile, and he laughs.

“You are something else, Doc.”

“I know. I know. You’re the lucky one who gets stuck with me for the next eighteen years.”

“You’re right. I am the lucky one.” He winks, and I want to kiss him so badly right now. But I know I can’t. Or at least I know I shouldn’t. “You ready for cake?”

“I’ve never been more ready in my life,” I tell him. He gets up, grabs the cake box, and brings it back to the couch. “Now, I don’t want you to judge me by what you’re about to see, ok? Frosting is life, and I won’t feel bad about eating all of this.”

Wes laughs as I bring the first bite of chocolate frosting to my lips. He watches me take a bite, swallow it, and lick my fork afterward.

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I think I could watch you eat cake all fucking night,” he growls.

I make a production of licking my fork again, my eyes inadvertently darting to his pants, where I see a bulge going in the front. I smile, knowing I affect him just from eating cake. Poor guy.

He grabs a piece of cake for himself. “I’m going to eat this just to get my mind off what I actually want to be doing.”

“And what is that?”

“You.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

WES

I liked watching Hazel squirm.

I knew she didn’t want to ask me to go with her, but she really didn’t have a choice. And she thought I’d say no, which I couldn’t believe because I would literally jump at any opportunity to show her I wanted a chance with her. An actual chance. Not just hanging out because we happen to be having a baby together or whatever it is we’re doing right now.

I wasn’t lying when I told Hazel that I was free the weekend she needed me. Ozzy’s fight was the day after Hazel’s conversation with her mom, so I won’t need to be in town the next weekend for any particular reason.

I can’t miss Ozzy’s fights. I never have, and I never will. He goes hard out there in the ring, and I want to be there to make sure he gets home and takes care of himself. Some of his fights are brutal, and I’m surprised his face isn’t permanently fucked up. The first time Stella saw him after a fight, she yelled at me for letting him do it. Like I could stop a grown-ass man from doing something he wanted to do.

Hazel and I don’t get much together throughout the next week. The semester is really ramping up for both of us. I’ve got papers and research projects to work on, and Hazel has meetings with faculty and other students. This is the time during the semester when people need guidance on the material, and Hazel, being the angel she is, extends her office hours to be there to help everyone. I don’t know how she manages it. Not only does she keep a smile on her face, but she gets so excited helping people understand the concepts. It sounds exhausting if you ask me, but I guess that’s why I’m not a teacher.

I go to Hazel’s on Monday night to watch the dance competition show with her. I could tell it meant a lot to her that I was willing to spend my time watching something she enjoyed. I honestly want to punch her ex-boyfriend in the face for making her think what she wanted wasn’t as important as what he wanted. Hazel is a queen and should be treated as such.

The rest of the week gets away from me, and I’m not able to make it over to her place at all. It sucks, and I miss that one-on-one time with her. I see her in class three days a week, but I have to share her with everyone else sitting in that lecture hall, which isn’t fair. I don’t like to share.

I spend some time at Jim’s with the boys and Stella on Friday night. I don’t want anyone to get suspicious when I’m gone for forty-eight hours since I can’t tell them I’m going out of town with a girl. I have a good time hanging out with them, but I’d much rather be at Hazel’s, making her blush.

Hazel wants to be on the road by nine on Saturday morning, so I call it a night early on Friday. I pack my backpack for the overnight trip and lay out my clothes for the morning. I want to look nice, respectable, and maybe not so much like a college kid. It’s hard, though, with a baby face and head full of messy blond hair. The least I can do is dress nicely. My mom always told me to dress nice when I meet important people.