Chapter 40 #2
“I love you, man,” Kaden’s saying, as I tune back into the conversation, “but you gotta stop with the J?gerbombs. The day after the grad party, you were dead to the world.”
“Actually, I was doing Fireball shots that night,” says Ben, and Wes and I wince. “And yes. I know it was a big mistake. A huge mistake, actually.”
Wes snickers and holds up the bottle in his hand. “Maybe stick to beer from now on.”
“Yeah, no more shots,” I say.
Ben grins at us. “Okay, Mom and Dad. No more shots, I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that,” says Wes.
"Whatever happened that night, by the way?” Ben asks. He glances at Kaden. “We never got around to asking.”
Wes takes a sip of his beer. “What do you mean?”
“You know. With Ace.”
My muscles tighten, and beside me, Wes’s entire body tenses up. He tucks me closer into his side in a protective gesture, before giving his friends a hard look. “He crossed a line.”
Kaden’s brows shoot up at the dark note in Wes’s tone. “Any chance you guys will fix things?”
Wes’s jaw flexes, and he shakes his head. When he speaks, it’s in that scary, no-nonsense voice that I have a hard time associating with my sunny, easygoing boyfriend. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”
“But what happ—” Ben begins to ask, but he abruptly stops speaking when Kaden elbows him in the gut. “Ouch, K. Jeez.”
“Will you ever learn to read the room?” Kaden asks, shaking his head. Ben only shrugs.
Kaden quickly changes the subject after that, steering Ben onto a safer topic, and Wes dips his head close to my ear. His warm breath tickles my cheek as he murmurs, “You okay?”
I take a deep breath, glancing up to meet his eyes. “I’m good,” I tell him, surprised to find that it’s actually true.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d bring up…you know.”
“It’s fine, Wes,” I assure, and tilt my head up to press a kiss against his cheek. “I’ve already forgotten about it. Really.”
He nods, his eyes scanning over my face. Satisfied with what he sees, he leans down and kisses my mouth. “Okay. Just making sure.”
“I know. And I love you for it.”
It’s late by the time we make our way back to the house, smelling of smoke, salt, and warm summer air. We say goodnight to Ben and Kaden, then retreat upstairs to our room.
After changing into a t-shirt and pajama shorts, I sit cross-legged on the bed, watching Wes brush his teeth at the bathroom sink. He’s shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, and his back muscles flex as he leans down to rinse with the faucet.
Eyes fixated on his body, I get up from the bed and pad across the room. Coming up behind him, I wrap my arms around his front, pressing my cheek against his back. His skin is warm and soft, and he smells heavenly.
He feels like home.
“Hey, you,” he says as he rips off a strand of floss, and I squeeze him tighter. I run my hands over his hard stomach as he works the floss between his teeth. His abdomen tightens at the contact, but he doesn’t start laughing the way I would at the light graze of fingertips.
I peek out from behind his bicep so I can meet his eyes in the mirror. “You’re not ticklish?”
“Nope.” He grins at me as he tosses the floss in the trash. “Disappointed?”
“Yes. Being ticklish is a vulnerability I believe everyone should have. It’s only fair.”
He laughs. “Being ticklish is a mental hurdle. Anyone can decide to not be ticklish.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true.”
I hug him again, resting my cheek against his back as he moves on to the mouthwash. While he swishes it around his mouth, I press a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, and his entire body jerks. He spits in the sink before turning to face me.
“That wasn’t the full thirty seconds,” I scold.
“Well, I’m a little bit distracted,” he says, resting his hands on my waist as he pulls me closer.
I push up on my tiptoes and press my mouth to his, reveling in the minty taste.
And when I part my lips to deepen the kiss, his hands tighten on my hips as my arms wind around his neck.
My eyes flutter shut as his tongue slides against mine, and heat sears down my spine when he makes a deep noise in the back of his throat.
I break away just enough to whisper, “You taste good.”
Without warning, he lifts me up and carries me into the bedroom, tossing me easily on the bed. I laugh as he practically jumps on top of me, but he lets me wrestle him onto his back, and I tickle his armpits until he grunts out a laugh.
“Mental hurdle my ass,” I tease.
The laughter dies on his lips as his eyes darken, scanning over my face like he’s committing it to memory. “You’re so beautiful,” he says.
In response, I lean down to kiss him, our lips brushing slowly. Tenderly. When I pull away, he’s looking at me with such intensity that I can tell something big is on his mind. “Wes, what is it?”
“Remember that night in my car, after you met my parents? You asked me why I liked you?” I nod, recalling the painful end to that evening. “I just realized that I never told you the reasons. I never told you that I think you’re insanely talented. Beautiful and intelligent and strong—
“Wes,” I cut in, my cheeks warming in response to his compliments.
“You are,” he says adamantly. “You’re probably one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.
You went through something horrible, and I know there were days when you wanted to give up.
I saw it—on your face, in your eyes. But you didn’t.
You fought like hell, and you’re putting in the work even though I know it must be hard.
And I know it’s not easy for you to open your heart.
To trust. But you trust me, and I’m fucking honored.
I’m so fucking honored to be that person.
To be in your life at all. You make me smile more than anyone else in the world, and I mean it when I say you’re my best friend.
You have my whole heart, Ivy. You have all of me. ”
When he finishes, I just stare at him, stunned speechless. I have no words, so I lean forward and kiss him instead, my heart fuller than it’s ever been.
Because Wes trusts me. He supports me. He stands by me. It took a while for it to sink in because I never expected him to believe me over a friend he’s known since grade school. I never dreamed he’d look at me the same once I revealed the truth.
But he does. And although I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, it’s a relief having someone else there to share the burden and help carry the load on the days I find it crushing. And on the days that the guilt and the anger creep up on me without warning, he’s a safe haven in the storm.
Beneath the covers, he gathers me close. He holds me like something precious, and my heart threatens to burst. Our noses brush, our breath mingles, and then his mouth finds mine in the dark.
We kiss, a slow, gentle exploration. On our sides, my body presses along his, and I like the way it feels, my softness molding to his solidness, his arm wrapped around me, protective and safe.
Wes kisses me like he’s memorizing the feel of me.
Like he’s charting every hitch of breath and every soft whimper.
And as his tongue strokes mine, I press closer, hooking my leg over his hip, feeling the familiar needy ache in my belly.
I want this, more than anything, with him. Only with him, the other half of my heart.
Our kissing deepens, turning almost feverish now, and I revel in the friction as his hips rock into mine.
There’s only the thin fabric of his boxers and my sleep shorts between us, and it feels good.
Too good. I gasp into his mouth at the exquisite pressure, a soft moan breaking free of my lips.
He groans in response, the sound deep and rumbling, and my stomach clenches with need.
Heart pounding out of control, I break our kiss, leaving both of us breathless in the dark.
I don’t overthink the next words out of my mouth. I just…let them happen. I listen to my heart. I trust my body. I whisper, “Will you get on top of me? Please?”
His eyes search my face, hesitating only briefly before he rolls me onto my back and his body hovers over mine, just enough of his weight pressing on top of me. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” My hands roam over his warm skin, tracing the flexing muscles of his back, his shoulders, his biceps as he trails kisses down my jaw and neck.
I can tell he’s holding himself back, so I wrap my legs around his waist and roll my hips.
He freezes for a moment, and then his mouth is back on mine, kissing me passionately as our bodies move together.
I can feel how turned on he is, his hard length pressing perfectly between my legs, but it doesn’t scare me like it used to.
It urges me on. Gives me assurance. Drives me wild.
Makes me want more.
“I want to take my shirt off,” I murmur against his mouth, and our bodies still. If I’ve surprised him, he doesn’t show it.
“Okay, baby. Let me help you.” He pulls back, allowing me room to sit up, and guides my shirt over my head before tossing it over his shoulder.
I lie back down, my upper body now completely exposed, but I don’t feel self-conscious.
Wes stays kneeling, his face flushing as his eyes roam across my naked breasts, and I realize that I want him to look. I need him to look.
Because the way he’s looking at me right now makes my insides shake.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice taking on a rough edge.
“My shorts, too,” I breathe before I can convince myself otherwise.
This time, I catch the surprise on Wes’s face, but to his credit, he doesn’t ruin the moment.
He trusts me the way I trust him, and so he scoots back on the bed and curls his fingers into the waistband of my sleep shorts.
Slowly, he pulls them down my legs and over my feet before tossing them to the side.
And then I’m fully naked under the heated gaze of a beautiful man.
“Wow,” he murmurs, eyes inky and unfocused.