Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
We sit like that for a long time, clinging to each other.
I focus on his breathing, letting it center me.
I listen to his heartbeat, letting it steady me.
When I move to pull away, he only grips me tighter, crushing me against his chest and burying his face deep in my hair.
I squeeze him harder and let the minutes tick by.
When we finally break apart, I take his hand in mine, examining the angry, broken skin of his knuckles, raw and bleeding. “Have you ever punched someone before?” I ask quietly.
He flexes his fingers, wincing at the movement. “Never.”
“You should ice it.”
“I should.”
Neither of us moves.
“You should shower,” I say, eyeing the blood smeared across his neck and face. It’s splattered over his white button-up, too, probably forever staining the fabric.
“I should,” he says.
But neither of us moves.
Downstairs the music pulses, vibrating through the floorboards and the walls. I hear laughter and the sound of people cheering, but it all seems so far away now.
“The party…” I murmur, thinking of all of Wes’s friends. Thinking of all the people who probably want to spend time with the man beside me. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”
Wes’s hands move up to squeeze my shoulders as his eyes bore into mine. “You didn’t ruin anything, Ivy. Nothing.”
“Okay,” I whisper, choosing to believe the sincerity in his eyes and the conviction in his voice. His gaze holds mine for a moment longer before he pulls me into his chest again, his good hand stroking my hair.
“You’re right, though,” he says after a while, his chest vibrating with the words. I pull back so I can see his face. “I should shower. You should too. I’m sorry about your shirt.”
Confused, I look down at my t-shirt, surprised when I see blood smeared across the blue cotton. “Oh.” I notice my palms and fingers, as well, stained from the places I gripped Wes’s hand. I don’t know whose blood it is, Wes’s or Mason’s, and my hands start to shake.
“You can go first, Ives.”
My eyes drift back to his. I can’t bear to have him out of my sight. “Can we go together?”
“Of course,” he says without hesitation, like he can’t bear to be away from me either, and he pulls me up and into the bathroom.
I stare at my reflection as he turns on the water, wondering how I managed to smear blood across my cheek and chin and neck and shirt.
Before I can overthink my actions, I pull my top over my head, slip off my shoes, and strip down my jeans, kicking them into the corner.
Wes is watching me with a frown, still dressed, almost like he’s waiting for me to realize that I’m standing here in front of him in nothing but my bra and underwear.
Almost like he’s waiting for the freak out to commence.
It doesn’t, though. I don’t care if he sees my body right now. I only want to be close to him.
He’s still frozen as I unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers and push it free of his broad shoulders.
Like a switch flips, he suddenly spurs into action, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.
He pushes the slacks down his legs and steps out of them before removing his socks, and then we’re both in our underwear.
We step into the shower and stand beneath the hot water.
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his naked chest, holding him close as the water streams down over our bodies.
His lips press against my head as his good hand strokes down my back in a soothing rhythm that has my eyes fluttering shut.
Between that and the warm water, my muscles start to relax. My breathing steadies.
“Wes,” I whisper, after a while.
His mouth is still pressed to my hair. “Hmm?”
“Thank you. For believing me.”
His strong arms tighten around me. “It would be impossible not to, Ivy.”
I raise my head to look up at him. His eyes swim with emotion and mine respond by filling with tears, only this time, they’re tears of relief.
His hands move up to cradle my face, and he plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
He’s looking at me in a way that makes my heart expand, despite the chaos of the last few hours. He whispers, “I fucking missed you.”
I whisper back, “I fucking missed you, too.”
We stay in the shower until the mirror steams and our fingers prune.
Then, Wes wraps me in a towel and finds the “pajamas” I’ve worn before.
He lets me change in the bathroom while he does the same in the bedroom, and then we crawl into his bed.
Even though there are voices outside and a party downstairs, we lie together with opposite cheeks pressed against the same pillow.
Even though Wes’s phone is blowing up with texts and calls and people wondering where he went, we stay there, holding each other.
We take comfort in each other’s presence, the simple act of being there.
Because even if we’re both wrecked, at least we’re wrecked together.
I wake abruptly to find us knotted together. Legs interlocked, arms entwined, I’m encased in the heat of Wes’s body and cocooned by the weight of it.
And yet, I’m still not close enough.
I don’t think I’ll ever be close enough, not after being apart from him.
“Hi,” he whispers into the dark. My eyes snap up to meet his. With my head on his chest, I couldn’t tell he was awake.
I pull back to get a better look at his expression. “Hi. How long have you been up?”
“A while. I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.” He gazes at me in the dim light, his eyes charting across my face, and when he brushes my hair back behind my ear, my heart stumbles over a beat. I missed this. I missed him. “I’ve been thinking about things,” he says softly.
“What things?”
“Signs I missed. Shit I overlooked. Ace—” he cuts himself off, looking horrified that he used Mason’s nickname. His hand falls away from my face. “Mason did some fucked up things over the years. Things I was too quick to forgive or write off.”
I frown at the strain in his voice. “It’s okay, Wes.”
His jaw flexes like he’s clenching his teeth together. “It’s not. It’s not okay. I don’t know why I always look for the best in people when they don’t fucking deserve it.”
“Because you’re you. You’re a good person.”
He shakes his head. “I sugarcoat shit. Let people get away with things. I don’t set boundaries, but your friends are there to hold you accountable, you know?
Who else is going to tell you if your moral compass is fucked except for them?
Who else is going to call you out if something’s unacceptable?
” His eyes avert to the ceiling as his mouth twitches down.
“I feel like there were so many times over the years I could have said something. Done something. And maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have…
maybe you wouldn’t have had to endure what you did. ”
“Wes,” I say quietly. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“He was one of my closest friends, Ivy. It was my job to say something.”
Reaching out, I touch his cheek, stroking my fingers over the dark stubble at his jaw. His eyes are still trained on the ceiling. He still won’t look at me. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as his eyes meet mine.
They’re pained, and my heart squeezes. “I’ve been thinking back on spring break.
Some of your actions make complete sense now.
At the time, I just thought you were nervous being around all those people.
But now…now I see.” His brows pinch together.
“You must have thought I was a monster for being friends with him and inviting him on that trip. I can’t believe I put you through that. ”
“I was upset, but not at you. I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.”
His eyes flare with protectiveness. “Never. I never want to hurt you.”
I lean forward and press a soft kiss against his jaw. “I know, Wes.” But thoughts of the spring break trip have guilt stirring in my chest, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I think…I think something might have happened on the trip.”
His jaw clenches again. It seems like he’s holding his breath when he asks, “What do you mean?”
“With Chloe,” I murmur. “And…Mason.”
Wes pushes up to a seated position, and I do the same, tucking my legs under me. He looks at me with dismay. “What?”
“I can’t be sure, but I know something was off with her. Wrong. I could tell something happened, I just don’t know what. And then she left so abruptly…” My eyes start to burn, and I blink back tears, staring down at my hands. “If I’d reported him…if I’d done something…”
Wes reaches out and takes my hands in his.
He squeezes them, thumbs stroking over my palms. “Ivy. Ivy, look at me.” Slowly, I lift my head and meet his determined gaze.
“You were a wreck when I met you. I can’t imagine how you were before that.
You did what you could, which was survive.
You can’t carry the weight of other people’s trauma on your shoulders. You can’t. No one expects you to.”
“But Chloe—”
“If you’re at fault, which you’re not, then I’m at fault. I’m the one who invited him on the fucking trip. I’m the one who was too blind to see who he really was as a person. He was my friend. It was my job to protect you…and I failed.”
Now it’s my turn to squeeze his hands. “None of it is your fault either.”
He shrugs his shoulders, attempting a weak smile. “Maybe. Maybe not. I want you to know, though…” He trails off for a moment, like he’s rethinking his statement.
“What?” I urge.
“I want you to know that if you ever did want to report him, I’d support you.”
My muscles tense up, and my eyes go wide. “What?” I squeak.
“I’m not saying you should do anything, but if you ever wanted to, I’d be there. I’d support you. One hundred percent. No question.”
“Okay,” I whisper, trying to breathe through the rapid pounding of my heart. It’s not a conversation I want to have—not a conversation I feel ready to have—but the thought of what Mason may or may not have done to Chloe makes me feel sick to my stomach.
“Come here.” He lies back down on the bed, pulling me with him so that our bodies are facing each other. Our cheeks rest against the pillow as our eyes meet.
And then we just…look at each other. We each take comfort in the other’s presence. In our long overdue reunion. And despite the emotional turmoil of the past twelve hours, I feel relieved. Our intentions are laid bare, our souls exposed. For the first time, Wes sees all of me, every last scar.
And he’s still here.
“Ivy?” he asks, eyes boring into mine.
“Yeah?” I whisper, studying his face. He looks so vulnerable, with his puffy eyes and disheveled hair and a pillow crease across his left cheek. “What is it?”
His voice is low. Rough. “Don’t push me away again, okay? I’m here for you. I’m all in on this. Don’t push me away.”
“I won’t,” I breathe, my heart swelling up to fill my chest. “I’ll never. Not again. I lo—”
I cut myself off, my pulse skyrocketing. Wes’s eyes search mine, so hopeful that my heart quakes. “You what?”
“I love you, okay?” I blurt, unable to hold back the words any longer. “I love you. I love you maybe too much. I—” I swallow. “I think about you constantly, Wes. And maybe being apart was necessary at the time, but I hated every second of it. It felt like…it felt like half of my heart was missing.”
Instead of smiling at me, the way I thought he would, he looks serious—too serious for easygoing Wes—and my stomach drops out. Did I misunderstand him when he said he was “all in?”
“Wes?” I prompt, my voice barely audible.
Finally, finally, his mouth cracks into a smile.
His face alights despite the heaviness of last night, and his hand moves up to my cheek, his thumb grazing my skin in a sweet, soft gesture.
His throat bobs as he swallows, and when he speaks, his voice is thicker than before.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. ”
My heart leaps. I suck in a quick breath. “Really? So…”
“I love you, Ives.”
“You do?” I breathe, my pulse fluttering out of control.
He nods slowly, holding my gaze. “Of course, I do. I’ve loved you since that day we got ice cream, I think. Back when you first said my name. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
Once his words sink in, I can hardly believe them. “Really? That long ago?”
“From the very beginning you treated me like a person, not some campus persona. You weren’t trying to win me over or put on a performance or make some calculated move.
You intrigued me. Disarmed me. You didn’t give away your smiles freely or your laughs easily.
You made me work for every single one, and honestly, Ives?
I didn’t mind it for a second. Earning your trust, your heart, was the most worthwhile thing I’ve ever done. ”
Warm tingles spread throughout my body as his words sink in, but before I can respond, he kisses me. He kisses me and kisses me, and we float up and out of this bed. The world tunnels to the two of us, and at last, I’m able to fully embrace the moment.
No more secrets. No more hiding. No more running. Wes knows the truth, and he still loves me. He’s here for me, no matter what that means.
After months of stumbling in the dark and desperately clinging to his beautiful, blinding rays, I light up for him.
This time when he shines, I shine right back.