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I clutch his hair in my hands, desperate for him to continue and disappointed when he distances himself. My panting is uncontrollable, yet I raise my brows, silently questioning why he pulled away.
“But not here.”
“When?” I blurt out, desperate and forthcoming.
“I want you to come with me to an event tomorrow night. It’s a fundraiser at my mother’s house.”
“Your mother?” I step back, curious as to why he wants to go and with me of all people. According to the Internet, they don’t have a relationship. “I didn’t think you guys spoke?”
“We do, sort of. This is for charity. So, I would like to go. Will you be my date as my girlfriend?”
The cute, adorable, wants-to-raise-money-for-charity Wesley, is a side of him I haven’t seen. I’m still in awe. This guy in front of me wants to be with me, no other reason, just because he wants me. This fantasy world that my brain has created for itself bursts from the reality of the world around us, the people around us.
“But what if someone tells Emerson about us?”
“So let them.”
“I can’t jeopardize my job,” I tell him firmly, backing away. “I’ll go, on one condition.”
Wesley stills his demeanor, looking slightly agitated that I have mentioned Emerson.
“No photos of us, together. I will go as a different name. I don’t want this leaking out. I have my mom to think of and Flynn. You need to understand, please.”
His arms are folded, and any minute now, I’m expecting Mr. Rage to let me have it.
He surprises me with a bemused smile. “Any name, huh? Like… Ivana Cumalot?”
I’m unable to hold my laughter, clutching my stomach while I encourage this childish behavior. “Helda Dick.”
“Anita Cox.”
We both laugh until we slow down enough to catch our breath.
“How fancy are we talking?”
“Don’t worry, I got you covered.”
“It’s fine.” I turn away, pretending not to care but knowing full well I will be judged. “I can go buy a dress.”
I’m mentally thinking about my bank account, about the check due to Mom’s facility tomorrow and my rent due next week. I have received a few paychecks since I started and managed to put away some money for a rainy day. I’m not sure if this constitutes a rainy day.
“Would you please let me cover this? Besides, I know most of the owners on Rodeo Drive.”
“Rodeo Drive? That’s not me.”
He throws his hands into the air with frustration. “Look, I know you’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear. Just go pick anything. They owe me. In fact, I’ll send you to a shop that owes me big time. I wear their shit all the time, and that’s how they get their sales. Stop frowning and just do it.”
Flynn’s voice echoes through the apartment, calling my name.
“I need to go. Tomorrow?”
“Wait, you don’t have to go. Can’t you stay?”
I want to ease my concerns. Put to bed everything I have read about him and start our newly formed relationship on a fresh slate. But he’s fidgeting and desperate to leave. It’s not worth the argument.
“Tomorrow.”
