Page 104 of Make Me Laugh

West turns on his heels, pinning me with a stare that nearly buckles my knees. He stalks towards me, reminding me of a big cat hunting their prey. I swallow, retreating until my back presses against one of the sheds.

“You said I could go home with whoever I want.” West doesn’t stop his approach. He boxes me in like he’d done in the elevator our first night, hands beside my head with not enough space in between our bodies.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I try to look down, to look away, but West is everywhere. I can smell him. I can feel the heat of his body. If I turn my head, I catch a glimpse of his delicious, corded veins.

West’s hand wraps around the top of my throat, his index finger and thumb gripping my jaw to gain control of my head movement. He jerks my gaze to his. “I want to go home with you. Unless you’d prefer me to do all the things I have planned for our night right here.”

I gasp as his other hand slides under my shirt, goosebumps scattering from his cool touch against my stomach. He watches my lips part, biting his own as his crystal eyes scan my face.

Sometimes, well, all the time I overthink. Everything. I make a plan for the smallest of things. I plan in hopes it all goes perfectly. It rarely does.

I stress about where I should be in life by almost thirty-two, which I once believed definitely wasn’t here with West. This was just a stop in the road.

But what if it’s not a stop? What if he’s my destination?

And what if I let myself fuck the one happy thing in my life up that I didn’t plan for?

“Take me home,” I finally hear myself say with a breathless rasp after what feels like forever without talking. My heart continues to race, and my pulse might be beating loud enough to hear, but I know I’ve made the right decision when I watch West’s pupils dilate.

My body aches with the need to be touched by him. West licks his lips, and I know he’s about to kiss me. A cold heat washes over me when he pulls away and takes his phone from his jacket pocket instead.

I watch his fingers, afraid if I move my knees might give out. He’s done in seconds, returning his phone.

“Let’s go,” West says.

I look down at his hand, outstretched and waiting for me to grab. My eyes flick up to his and that’s when I see what I’m looking for.

Someone to take charge when it feels too hard for me to do it myself.

I don’t know how to process all the unanswered questions in my head, and I won’t be able to right now anyway. So, without breaking down every detail to see what my best decision is, I slip my hand into West’s, interlacing our fingers without checking to see if anyone’s looking.

He leads me through the lesser populated walkways, weaving through tents and porta potties. We slip through a gap in the fence, and I don’t ask where we’re going, because I already know he called a rideshare to a location down the street. He made sure there wasn’t a chance we were seen getting into a car together.

West always thinks of what I want.

We walk in silence, hand in hand, and I let myself enjoy the giddy flutter in my stomach. That’s what the idea of being with West has felt like since the moment I met him. Butterflies and fucking rainbows…

There’s a black sedan waiting for us at the gas station across the street.

West fiddles with one of his rings, staring at me intently when the driver pulls onto the road. He’s always looked at me like I’m the only person in the room, but tonight it feels heavier.

This time, unlike our first, we know we have to wake up and see each other again… If we do this, if we break this contract, there’s still six weeks of tour left. “The people want Hex and West Parker together…”

I nod, taking a moment to read between the lines. “But you want Joey.”

Am I able to detach the two and give us what we both want? Can West?

I’m not ready to get hurt when this ends badly, and it will. Nothing like this ever lasts. We’re basically two reality stars being held under a magnifying glass for everyone to take turns picking apart. This is going to blow up in our faces eventually.

He doesn’t respond, and the rest of our ride is spent in silence. Thankfully, we’re not a far drive, and before I crawl out of my skin, the driver pulls up to the curb outside the townhouse.

The only lights on are the porch and foyer glowing through the curtains. West thanks the driver and gets out, leaning down to motion for me to exit on his side as a car passes by mine, followed by another.

I slide through and take the hand he offers me. I let it go once I’m out, heading to unlock the door.

The second we’re inside, the lock slides into place, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of every noise inside the house.

The hum of the fridge, the clank of the old furnace kicking on… West’s breathing.